See You Again
by goldengirlschildhood
Summary: Emma certainly never thought her son would find her when he was still so young. She also never thought she'd see the young naval lieutenant she met on deployment years ago. Especially since she watched him walk through a portal to another world and time. Traumatized and heartbroken Emma must find a way to free the town from the Evil Queen to reunite with her lost love. Part of CSBB
1. Welcome to Storybrooke

[ _Deployment 2002_ ]

"Come with me," his eyes were pleading, so blue in the sunlight fading behind him.

"Killian, I– I belong here. Go home. Go home to your brother." She couldn't go with him, she doesn't belong in his family. She doesn't understand how to be a part of family, she has no practice. She gave away her only chance. Her son, she couldn't leave, she couldn't just disappear never to be found. She can't do to him what her parents have done to her.

 _Go home._

"Emma, please, come with me. Liam would love you, you can stay with us, we'll figure it out, Emma, I promise." He doesn't understand, he doesn't know about her son. And Emma can't bring herself to tell him.

"Killian," Emma pulled her body away from him, but kept her hand in his, pulling strength from the warm sensation. "I can't. I made a vow to my country and a promise to help these people. I can't just leave because I don't want to say goodbye."

Killian dropped his head, she was right, he knew. They both had a duty to land and country, Killian never thought he would start to regret following his brother into the Royal Navy.

He breathed deeply before stepping forward, leaning his forehead against Emma's and said "I guess it's time for me to depart then, Private Swan."

"I guess so, Lieutenant Jones." Killian turned then towards the portal, but stopped when he felt Emma's hand pull him back. She was right _there_ , he should just kiss her, but they've never divulged their feelings and in the end they are both just scared and uncertain nineteen year olds afraid to take a leap.

Emma's smile was sad as she looked into his eyes and said, "Have a good life Killian." She squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.

"Aye, Swan, you too." Emma watched as her true love walked in the portal, back into his real life, and was officially dead in hers. The sun went over the horizon, and the light was gone.

In the end, they were both too scared to say goodbye.

[ _Boston 2011_ ]

"My name's Henry, I'm your son." Emma was left at her own door as the boy made his way into her apartment. He was looking at everything, chatting the whole time, and then he was in her _fridge_.

"Where are your parents?"

"Ten years ago did you give up a baby for adoption?" Emma didn't respond, she stood there taking him in. Recognizing his brown eyes and brown hair from another face, one that left her eleven years ago, pregnant and in prison. "That was me."

"Give me a minute."

A moment later and Emma was in her bathroom, _okayokayokay_ , she always knew that her son would find her, just not so soon. Not when he was ten years old. _The audacity_. But if he was anything like her, Emma shouldn't expect anything less. _Anything like her_. God, she hoped he was better than her.

 _Fuck he has to be so nervous_.

The kid didn't even say " _hello_."

-He's yelling at her through the bathroom door, asking for a glass for the juice he found in the fridge. By the time Emma walked out he already had the bottle tipped in the air, drinking straight from its mouth. When he was done he wiped his face with the back of his sleeve and said, "You know, we should probably get going."

"Going where?" Emma could see the forced casualness in his remark. How many times has he recited this very moment? Planned for their meeting?

"I want you to come home with me."

"Okay… Why don't you have your parents take you?" She knows he has parents. Emma researched every adoption agency in the country. She found one out of Boston that had a high placement rate. It took a lot of effort, but they eventually agreed to take her baby. She requested to be alerted to when he got adopted, she wanted to know that someone wanted her son. When she got the news that he was adopted at three months old Emma enlisted. She didn't have a reason to stick around for a while.

"My mom doesn't know where I am." A runaway. Check one for nature over nurture.

"Then how did you get here?" He's ten and it's 2011, surely he couldn't take the bu–

"I took the bus."

"You didn't." He's _ten_.

"Try me." But Emma didn't want to try him. In her mind's eye she could see herself, at ten years old, taking a bus to New York, thinking someone would want her there. She was wrong then, but she won't let her son go through that disappointment now. If he wants her to take him home, she will.

"Where's home?"

"Storybrooke, Maine"

"Storybrooke, seriously?" What a stupid name.

"Mhmm," he gave a small nod. Henry had put up a strong front, but now that he was so close to getting what he wanted she could see the fear coming through. It made her heart ache, in that moment of fear Emma could see herself yet again. Her own lost childhood beating at the gates, she never wanted that for her son.

You don't run away from home at ten years old for no reason.

And Emma wanted to know the reason.

She just didn't want to force it out of him.

"Alright, let's go to Storybrooke." If that is where he needed her, and where she can help him in whatever he needs, then that's where she'll go.

They were in the car leaving Boston. _They_. Emma was struggling to keep her grasp on the situation. Her _son_ was sitting next to her. The baby she refused to hold because she was scared to keep him is right beside her.

"I'm hungry. Do you want to stop somewhere?" _Stop?_ He wants to _stop?_ Emma had a to take a deep breath. She knows he has been dreaming of this moment his entire life, but _fuck_ she's scared too.

 _Breathe Emma_. This isn't a road trip and his mother has to be worried sick. And if she calls that cops? It'll look like Emma kidnapped her child.

"Henry, we can't stop but I'll go through a drive-thru."

"Why can't we stop?" He sounded so disappointed. Why did he want to stop? To prevent going home? To tell her why he ran away? When Emma was a child she wanted to know everything about her parents. She often wondered if they did or liked the same things as she did. Now she'd just be happy to learn their names. Is that what Henry wanted to know? If they had similar eating habits?

"Because I'm sure your mom has called the cops and if they find us just eating in a restaurant, and not frantically trying to reunite you, I'll get arrested for kidnapping."

"Because you're my birth mother."

Emma looked over at him then, and he was disappointed. "Yeah, sorry kid."

"It's okay, I understand." It wasn't okay, but she'll try to give him that meal one day.

Henry buried himself into a large book he pulled out of his backpack, attempting to hide his disappointment.

"What do you like? Burgers? Tacos? Chicken, beef, fish?"

"Uhhh, I don't know. We don't have fast food in Storybrooke."

"No fast food in Storybrooke? What do you live in? An alternate reality?"

"Something like that."

"Alright, alright. We're coming back to that comment, but first, food. What do you want to try then?"

"Burgers. I want to try a Big Mac, the commercials look SO good."

"Okay, do you like onions and pickles?"

Henry shook his head vigorously in confirmation and kept doing so as he asked, "What do you like from McDonald's?"

"I like their chicken club, but I'm going to get a chicken wrap. It'll be easier to eat since I'm driving."

"If we weren't getting fast food, what would you eat?"

"Mmm. Grilled cheese and onion rings from a diner. Probably my favorite food. You?" Emma sees what Henry is doing. He's trying to get to know her, even in the simplest degree.

"Chocolate ice cream. Mom never lets me have it." Emma had to smile at that, the kid has a sweet tooth. Doesn't that sound familiar?

"Ha. Alright, I get that. I wasn't allowed to have a lot of ice cream when I was a kid either." Her foster homes weren't prone to spoiling her.

"What's your favorite drink?"

"Well," Emma looked over at him and gave a small smile, "this is going to sound weird, but I really like hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon sprinkled on top."

"Really? Me too! Must be a family thing." Henry was grinning at her. _Family_. That word bounced around her mind, knocking away all other thoughts. Henry wants to be a family, at least to some degree. He deserves that. To know who and where he came from. To know who his _family_ is.

She just hopes she is able to give it to him.

Her parents never could.

But just because she stopped trying to answer her questions about her family doesn't mean she can't answer Henry's. He deserves everything she never got.

Henry liked his Big Mac, "I wish we had this in Storybrooke," he said around a mouthful of burger. He was using the large book as a makeshift table, but Emma caught the cover earlier when Henry was getting ready to eat. _Once Upon a Time_ , it made her blood run cold.

" _No fast food in Storybrooke? What do you live in? An alternate reality?"_

" _Something like that."_

It's not possible, it couldn't be.

But it wouldn't be the first time a fictional story turned out to be someone's reality.

[ _Deployment 2002_ ]

Emma's first deployment was 8 months wandering the East African countryside, there was a warlord named Kovu reeking havoc on the Tanzanian countryside. The local authorities were unable to stop him, so they reach out to the US and were sent the Wanderers, the special ops group that specializes in taking care of difficult, rural "problems." And the government considered Kovu to be quite the problem. But when 8 months had passed their captain decided it was time to go home, revel in their families, and regroup to attack it fresh. Unfortunately for Emma her captain approached her with a different idea.

"Private Swan, you don't have anyone waiting for you stateside." It wasn't a question, he knew it and had taken advantage of her lack of loved ones multiple times already. Using it to justify sending her into reckless situations.

She did not like her captain very well.

"In four months we're coming back, but there is still too much we don't know. Like where the fuck is Kovu going? How is he hiding so well? I'm telling you, it is somewhere in the south east of Tanzania. But we all got families ready to see us again and we're all kinds of excited to be with them. Except you." He was pointing at her now, wagging his finger. Emma wanted to grab it and break it.

"You don't need to go home, because you don't have one. So I've contacted the higher ups and elected to keep you here in East Africa to gain info."

Emma didn't respond, she couldn't respond. He was right, after all, why shouldn't she go? It didn't matter if she didn't go home. Like he said, she doesn't even have one.

"I want you to head south and sniff around there. And Private, smile, you'll be promoted after this." And he walked away.

Leaving Emma alone.

She'll need to get used to it again.

So Emma went south and found herself in an unexpected country, one not on any map she has ever seen.

[ _2011_ ]

" _No fast food in Storybrooke? What do you live in? An alternate reality?"_

" _Something like that."_

"Henry, tell me about your book."

He shook his head before saying, "I'm not sure your ready."

"Ready for some fairy tales?" Memories flashed across her mind of a lost prince on the run from his uncle, pirates rebelling against a tyrant, and a magician who desperately wanted to help save his kingdom. But the impression that wouldn't fade was one of a boy with gentle blue eyes who fell through a portal from a land called Misthaven, where fairy tales were real life.

"They're not fairy tales. They're true. Every story in this book actually happened."

 _Fuck_. "Of course it did."

"Use your superpower. See if I'm lying." He was defensive and Emma couldn't blame him, to a normal person what he was saying _is_ crazy.

"No, I believe you believe that this is the truth and I want to learn more about it." Emma has seen too much to just write him off. If what he is suggesting is real, and he came all the way to Boston for her to come home with him, then he must need her help. And if it isn't real, then what Henry needs isn't someone telling him that what he believes isn't true. Emma has a feeling that Henry gets enough of that already.

"So you don't think I'm crazy?"

"I don't think you're crazy and I will listen to everything you have say."

And man, did he have a lot to say.

By the time they arrived in Storybrooke Henry had told Emma about the Dark Curse the Evil Queen, his mother, cast and how Snow White and Prince Charming had to give up their daughter in order to save their kingdom.

"Every person in Storybrooke is a fairy tale character and they are all cursed to never get their happy endings. They can't be happy. None of them remember who they are." He was dead serious and Emma was overwhelmed.

"Alright. Okay. You can stop. I just– I'm going to spend the night in Storybrooke. Can I borrow your book and read it? So I can have more time to digest this information?"

He grinned at her, "You want to read it?" She shook her head at him.

"Yeah,"

"Great! I'll leave it in the car. You can stay at Granny's, we're about to pass it on the right." Henry pointed out the dinner and told her that around the corner there was an entrance to the inn.

"Okay, now how about some directions to your house?"

"Forty-four-not-telling-you street."

Emma slammed on her brakes. She slammed the door behind her when she stepped out into the middle of the street. She heard a transformer bust somewhere behind her.

"Henry, it's been a long night and it's almost… 8:15?" Emma stared at the clock tower, she knew it had to be close to midnight.

"That clock hasn't moved my whole life. Time's frozen here."

"Right, the curse. Storybook characters. Frozen in time in Storybrooke, Maine. Hence the clock tower." Emma took a deep breath, this has been a lot for her to take in and if this curse is real then they can't be working together and still have Henry doing this. "Look, kid, I can't help you if I get arrested for kidnapping, which can still happen. I need you to not play games with me right now." Henry looked away from her, holding his book closer to his chest. "I know you're scared, Henry, but you have already been so brave and if we're going to get through this, I am sorry, but you're going to have to keep being brave. Please, tell me where you live."

There were tears in his eyes when he said, "She doesn't love me. My mom doesn't love me."

In all the scenarios Emma pictured in her head when she gave Henry up, him ending up with someone who didn't love him was the worst curse she could have imagine for her son.

Emma bent down on one knee and looked up at Henry, "Hey, listen, when I gave you up for adoption ten years ago I made sure you went to the agency with the highest adoption rate in the country. I grew up in the foster system Henry, and for someone to adopt you they have to want you. They have to want you a lot. And Henry, that means your mom loves you. Maybe it isn't perfect, but she does love you. You don't go through the struggle of adoption if you don't love the kid."

"Then why doesn't she act like it?" He was crying now and Emma didn't know what to do. She wasn't comfortable with the idea of touching him, they just met, but she remembered being a child, crying in the bed of another new foster home, wishing she had her mother to hold her.

So Emma did what she so desperately wanted as a child. She reached forward and wrapped Henry in her arms. She looked for any signs of resistance, ready to let go if he wanted her too, but instead of pulling away he fell into her shoulder.

"I don't know, Henry." But she wished she did.

"Henry!" There was a man with a dog jogging towards them. "What are you doing here? Is everything thing alright?" They had pulled away from each other and Henry schooled his face to the best reassuring expression he could.

"I'm fine, Archie."

"Who's this?"

"She's my mom, Archie."

"Oh, I see. That's why you missed our session." Where ever Archie was going with the session talk, Emma decided that now wasn't the time for it.

"Do you know where he lives?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." He looked less suspicious and concerned after he gave her directions, realizing that she was returning Henry and not stealing him. "The Mayor's house is the biggest one on the block."

"You're the mayor's kid?"

"Uh, maybe." _Of course she is. If she's the Evil Queen, why wouldn't she run her cursed town?_ Emma huffed out a breath of frustration, she really wanted to go to bed.

"Alright, well I better get you home. Get back in the car Henry."

Archie stepped back, "Yeah, sure, have a good night. You be good, Henry." He clapped Henry on the shoulder and walked away.

Emma turned to him, "So he's a therapist?"

"I'm not crazy." He was defensive again, Emma couldn't blame him.

"Didn't say that. I also have a therapist, just wondering who he is and a little suspicious that he walks his dog at midnight."

"He's Jiminy Cricket." Henry called it over the car as he made his way to the passenger seat.

"Well, that explains it."

"Do I have to do this?" They were walking up to the house and Emma wanted to run. She wanted to take Henry and run. He shouldn't have to go through this. He should live with someone who loves him. Someone he isn't afraid of, but if he's right and this entire town is cursed, then they have to stay and they have to keep Regina complacent.

"Henry…" She wanted to comfort him, but she didn't know how.

"I know, it needs to be this way if we're gonna break the curse." He was so brave, her son.

"Henry?!" A woman was running at them, more specifically, she was running towards Henry and pushed Emma out of the way. "Oh, Henry." Her voice was breaking, like a scared mother relieved to see her son alive and well. "Ohh. Are you okay?" She engulfed him in her arms, but unlike earlier with Emma he didn't hug her back.

"Where have you been?! What happened?"

"I found my _real_ mom." He was running away now, disappearing into the house, and leaving Regina looking heartbroken and stunned before finally looking at Emma.

"You're Henry's birth mother?"

"Hi." _This could not be worse_.

"We'll just go and check on the lad, make sure he's alright." Emma looked past the woman in front of her and noticed for the first time the two men behind her. The man who spoke sounded british, with a beard and leather jacket.

"Come on, James." The man next to him, James, was dressed the same, and when Emma looked at his face her world for the second time that night came to a standstill.

 _Killian._ The feeling of a forehead pressed against hers. _This can't be real._ The goodbye they couldn't bear to say. _He died._

You can't go back two hundred years in the past and be alive in present.

You fucking _can't_.

Grief.

Shock.

Relief.

The regret of a kiss they never shared. All of these sensations pressed in on Emma at once, overwhelming her.

"How would you like a glass of the best apple cider you've ever tasted?" _What?_ Regina was looking at her, but she didn't hear whatever she had said as Emma watched an impossible man walk back into the house.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Regina was clearly annoyed that Emma wasn't paying attention, but she didn't care. She wanted to see that man again.

"I asked if you would like some apple cider."

"Oh, uh, does it have alcohol?" Emma tries to regulate her drinking. She's seen too many soldiers deal with their problems through liquor to think it's a good idea.

"No, but it does taste good with whiskey."

"No, I just don't drink much and wanted to know what I was being offered. But yeah, apple cider sounds great. Thanks."

"How did he find me?" Emma would bet money that the woman in front of her didn't have anything to do with it.

"No idea. When I adopted him, he was only 3 weeks old. The records were sealed. I was told the birth mother didn't want any contact." Her back was turned to Emma, trying to be nonchalant, but Emma could still see the tension in her shoulders.

"You were told right." The records were supposed to be sealed until his eighteenth birthday, then he could access them if he wanted.

"And the father?"

"No one to worry about." Emma wanted to shut that down quickly, Regina would be more hostile if she thought there was another person to be afraid of.

"Do I need to worry about you, Ms. Swan?" This was a careful situation, Regina was fishing and Emma didn't want to take a bite. Thankfully, Emma's impossible man and the sheriff stopped her from having to answer.

"Madam Mayor, you can relax. Other than being a tired little boy, Henry's fine."

"Thank you, Sheriff, Deputy." Emma got a better look at the Deputy this time before they left the house. The boy she knew was clean shaven when they met and it grew into a patchy beard during their three months together. The man before her had more defined facial hair, and much shorter hair. Those superficial differences couldn't hide the fact that it was definitely Killian in front of her. Roughly ten years older looking, but just as frighteningly attractive.

When they met ten years ago, Killian just stared at her and blinked.

He did no less now.

But Emma couldn't miss the lack of recognition in his eyes.

The sheriff stepped forward and stuck out his hand, "Hello, I'm Graham Humbert and this is my deputy, James Jones." Killian, _James_ , stepped forward and shook her hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Swan."

Emma couldn't speak, couldn't form words because he was _here_ and he was _touching her_.

That didn't stop Regina from speaking for her.

"No need to get acquainted, Ms. Swan was just leaving." She was right, Emma wanted out of there. She needed out of there and away from the Evil Queen and away from Killian. She dreamed of seeing him again, but never actually thought it would happen. And now that it has, it was possibly one of the worst experiences of her life. _I'm nothing but a stranger_.

"Yes, um, I better go." She didn't wait for a response and walked out of the door, brushing past Graham and James, but they weren't far from her heels as they were leaving too.

Killian was calling after her, "Ms. Swan, wait!" God, she just wanted to get _away_ from him. "Do you need directions out of town? Don't want you running over street signs and what not."

"No, no thank you. I'm actually going to stay at Granny's. Henry pointed it out to me on the way into town."

"Oh, are you staying?"

 _Come with me_.

He looked desperate back then, but he looks hopeful now. He doesn't even know her here, but Emma could see some part of him remembered her and wanted her to stay.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Then I'll see you around, Ms. Swan. Have a–"

"Emma. It's Emma." He smiled at her then, Graham stood awkwardly to the side and cleared his throat.

"Yes, good night Emma. Come on, James."

Emma didn't watch them walk away before driving to Granny's.

But she could see Killian watching her in the rearview window.

 _Fuck it has been a long day_.


	2. whos your momma dot org

That night Deputy James Jones would dream of blonde hair and emerald eyes, as well as laughter that was like diamonds in the sky.

 _Emma._

And when he woke up his dream would slip away, but its impression would remain.

 _Emma._

Emma woke up early the next day and had breakfast sent up to her room. She had planned to spend the day reading Henry's book, but that was abruptly interrupted when someone started pounding on her door. Quickly, Emma shoved the storybook under her mattress before opening the door.

"Where is _my_ son?" Was her greeting by an angry Regina Mills. Graham and James were standing on either side of her, looking serious.

"What? Is Henry missing?" That kid really does not want to be home.

"Oh cut the crap. You came here to take him from me. Now, where is he?"

"If I came here to take him, why would I still be here?" Regina didn't have an answer for that and before she could form one, Graham cut in.

"Regina found him missing this morning." At least Graham was on track.

"Did you try his friends?" Emma has found that when people run away, there is usually a friend somewhere who knows where they've gone.

"No, he doesn't have any." Still too much like her then.

"Did you check his computer? If he's close to someone, he'd be emailing them."

Graham and Killian looked at each other then. Graham turned back to her asking, "Do you know how to get ahold of those emails?"

Emma nodded, "Just take me to his computer."

Henry's smart, he cleared out every folder in his email. Unfortunately for him, Emma had a hard recovery disk.

"I'm a little more old-fashioned in my techniques: pounding the pavement, knocking on doors, that sort of thing."

"That's nice, and those are perfectly good techniques, but you have to adapt. I don't think those tricks are going to find you Henry." Whatever his response was, Emma didn't hear it because her disk brought up a receipt for the website .

"Bingo." Regina moved closer, hovering over her shoulder, which was more obnoxious than her pacing.

"He couldn't afford this, he doesn't have a credit card."

"No, but he did steal one from a Mary Margaret Blanchard. Know her?"

"Henry's teacher." Regina stormed out of the room then, slamming the door behind her.

James turned to her from his spot against the wall, "Well, Swan, guess you're riding with us." With his hand he motioned for Emma to follow Graham out the door. It was in this gesture that Emma noticed his left hand. She spent last night trying not to look at him, and this morning doing the same thing, but now that she has finally looked at him she sees it. Emma quickly followed after Graham, not wanting James to see her face.

In the Army, Emma had been shot, blown up, stabbed, and taken hostage. Her left leg was partially metal and she lost her best friend.

She knew Killian was in the Navy, but in her idea of what his life turned out to be it never included him losing a hand. Emma always wished the best for him.

Emma had to guess that the best didn't happen and– _Where's Liam? Oh my god, what happened to his brother?_ He fought so hard to get back to him. _He couldn't have lost Liam_.

 _Henry. Focus on Henry right now_.

Regina was forcing her way through a horde of children pushing their way down the hallway. Graham, James, and Emma were following at a much less hostile pace.

"Where's my son?" Regina apparently only has one greeting, and it always sounds like an accusation.

"Henry? I assumed he was homesick with you." Emma had seen enough of Henry's storybook to recognize Mary Margaret as Snow White, and she had to say, it was strikingly accurate.

"You think I'd be here if he was?"

Mary Margaret didn't answer, she wasn't even looking at Regina now. Instead, she was staring at Emma, like a person trying to place a memory that they just can't get their hands on.

"Did you give him your credit card so he could find her?" She never looked back at Regina, only at Emma, and asked,

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Emma stepped forward, and stuck out her hand.

"Emma Swan, I'm his birth mother."

"She's the woman who gave him up." Still Mary Margaret didn't look at Regina, and when she heard that comment she smiled at Emma.

"I'm glad he found you." Emma couldn't meet her kindness, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

"Henry used your credit card to find me."

"What?" She set down her purse and dug out her wallet, "Oh, Henry. You clever boy." She shook her head, "I should have never given him that book."

"What book?"

"Just some old stories that I gave him. As you well know, Henry is a special boy, so smart, so creative, and as you might be aware… " Mary Margaret's voice became harder, her face fierce, "lonely." The weight of her words hung in the air, digging into Emma's heart, embedding themselves under her skin.

 _I never wanted this for you._

"He needed it."

Regina's response was cold and heartless, "What he needs is a dose of reality. You're a waste of my time." Turning, she walked away, purposefully knocking things off of the children's desks as she did so.

 _What he needs_ , Emma thought, _is someone who will listen to him._

"Have a nice trip back to Boston."

 _Bitch_.

Emma moved to help Mary Margaret pick up the items off the floor, "Sorry to bother you, it's just that you were the only lead we had."

"It's okay, it is partially my fault." If she gave Henry the book, then she might know something about the curse.

"Why did you think stories would help?"

"What do you think stories are for? These stories… the classics? There's a reason we all know them. They're a way for us to deal with our world, a world that doesn't always make sense. See, Henry hasn't always had the easiest life. He's like any adopted child. He wrestles with that most basic question they all inevitably face: why would anyone give me away?"

 _Why didn't they want me?_ Emma should have realized sooner that today wasn't about Regina, the Evil Queen, or the curse. Today was about the fact that he found his mother and he still doesn't know why she gave him up. He still doesn't know that it's not because she didn't want him.

Emma has to find him.

"Oh, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to judge you. I gave him the book because I wanted Henry to have the most important thing anyone can have: hope."

 _Hope_. Just because Emma lost hope, doesn't mean Henry has to.

"Believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a power thing." _Powerful enough to break a curse?_ On a hunch, Emma had to ask her,

"You know where he is, don't you?"

"You might want to check his castle. It's on the beach."

"We should call Regina, tell her where he is." Graham is a nice guy, but Emma has decided that he doesn't think things through very well.

"No, we can't do that."

"She's his mum."

"I know, but right now, this isn't about her. This about Henry needing answers from me, about why I gave him up for adoption."

"Emma, I know that–"

"Graham, mate, she's right." Killian stepped into the conversation now, thankfully on Emma's side. "This is between her and Henry."

"Give me an hour tops, and I'll have him sitting with you in the patrol car."

"You realize that if Regina sees you with him you are effectively putting a target on your back?"

"Yep, and I'm fully ready to take a bullet for him. I've taken one for less, but today is about Henry."

Graham's response was to put the car in drive and head for the beach.

Emma leaned forward in her seat and said softly, "Thank you."

James looked over his shoulder and smiled at her.

He was sitting in his castle, facing the ocean with his back to her when Emma walked up. Graham and Killian were further down the beach, sitting in the patrol car, watching but not listening to the moment. Emma didn't speak, but chose to walk up to the platform Henry was on and sat down next to him. He didn't look at her.

"You like the ocean too, huh?" He didn't say anything, and he still wouldn't look at her.

The ocean was Emma's favorite place to be, back in Boston she would walk down to the docks in the morning just to watch the waves splash against the ships. Her therapist recommended trying to capture the calmness and constancy of the waves while she was there, as a type of art therapy Emma could do from home. She had liked the idea, the ebb and flow of the water had been the only constant Emma could rely on in her life. It was soothing, knowing that the lapping of the waves would always be there.

She guessed Henry might feel the same way.

Birds of a feather.

"I talked to your teacher, Ms. Blanchard." Henry was looking at her now, looking for something in that comment.

Emma could guess what it was.

"She's Snow White, right?"

That garnered the smallest of smiles.

"You do believe me, don't you?" Emma smiled back at him, trying to reassure him that she did and to draw strength from the fact that he will believe her.

He'll be the first person she has ever told this too.

"Let me tell you a story, Henry. A story about a girl, who was trying to do her best for the people she loved."

"This is about you, isn't it?"

"Yeah,"

"And me?"

"Yes."

"I want to hear it."

"No games, Henry. I'm going to be completely honest, and it is going to be hard to hear some of it."

He nodded his head, his face was set, "I understand."

"Well, Henry, I wasn't always on the right side of the law. When I was sixteen, I had been dating this guy for a few months. I had run away from my last foster home when I was fifteen and met him in Portland, Oregon. We were living on the run."

Emma paused, watching Henry as he absorbed this information. He gave her a nod to continue.

Taking a deep breathe, she did,

"When I was seventeen I got arrested and sent to a year in prison. It was there that I learned that I was pregnant with you." Emma wasn't looking at Henry anymore, she couldn't look at him. She needed to watch the waves, needed to not feel Neal's betrayal so potently a decade later.

"I tried to find your dad, but I couldn't Henry. I couldn't and I'm sorry." Her voice was getting thick, she needed to move forward, but god, this was _hard_.

"I had no skills, I had no job, I had no money, and no place to live. I couldn't take care of myself, let alone a baby. And I know that this doesn't change what happened Henry, but I did want you. I just _couldn't_ keep you." She was cupping his face now, looking into his eyes. He was trying not to cry. "Henry, I looked at every single option I could think of and I found the _best_ adoption agency in the country. I never got adopted, but I saw enough kids that did to know how much of an effort it is to adopt a child. How much money. I thought that if someone adopted you, that they would have to have the money to take care of you, it must mean that they really wanted you, and that they had to love you. I thought that was your best chance, Henry."

Through tears Henry said, "You wanted to give me my best chance."

"Yes, I did. It is not because I never wanted you or because I never loved you. Henry, I have always loved you."

He was hugging her now, crying into her shoulder. She held him for a moment before pulling back, hands holding onto his arms. He was so good, he was so strong.

"But that isn't the end of this story, Henry. I also want to assure you that I absolutely believe you." She stroked his arm and took a breath as an attempt to try to center herself before beginning again.

"I gave birth to you in August, and a month later September 11th happened. Do you know what that is?" He shook his head yes. "Good, okay, well, while I was in prison I got my GED and I was able to get some college credit and when I got out it was just after I turned 18. I was dead set on being someone you wouldn't be ashamed to know in the future, when you found me. I always knew you would look for me, just like I looked for my own parents. The only difference is that I wanted you to be able to find me."

Henry interrupted her here, "You haven't read the book have you?"

What did the book have to do with her parentage?

"I didn't have the chance to get very far before your mom was pounding on my door this morning." He started to make a face at that but Emma wasn't going to give him the chance to feel guilty, "Anyway, I knew that the military would pay for school and give me some money, so I enlisted. Having a felony on your record doesn't stop you from enlisting, it turns out. I got mixed up with a special ops group called the Wanderers, and um, I'm not going to get into that.

But, when I was nineteen I was by myself on deployment. I can't tell you where, but I ended up in a country that is not on any map from this world. And while there, a boy the same age as me fell through the sky right in front of me. He told me he was a naval lieutenant from a kingdom called Misthaven in a land called the Enchanted Forest."

Henry's eyes got wide with excitement, "That's–!"

"I know, Henry." _That's in the book._ "We sought some help and it turned out that he not only fell through worlds, but he also fell through time, which led us on a crazy magic filled adventure." Henry was staring at her with wide eyes, the shock of the story he's just been told setting in.

 _No one has ever believed him._

"He wanted me to go with him," _Come with me_. "But I wouldn't, Henry. If I left, you would have never been able to find me and I never wanted that for you. I stayed for you Henry, I have always tried to do what was best for you."

Henry was hugging her again and he didn't let go when he asked, "Why didn't he stay? If he wanted you to come with him, he should have been willing to stay here."

Her hand was cupping the back of his head, stroking the hair there, "Because I wouldn't let him. He had a brother waiting for him back home, a brother he fought so hard to get back to. I couldn't have asked him to stay. I had to let him go." She took a deep breath and gazed out at the ocean in front of them.

"But Henry, that's not all. That boy is impossibly sitting in the patrol car behind us, now a man. I have no doubt in my mind that that man is Killian Jones and the only explanation for it is magic."

Henry was grinning at her, "So you're going to stay?"

"Yeah, kid, I'm going to stay."

They heard the bell of the clock tower strike behind them.

Time to move forward, Storybrooke.

 _Tick tock._

After piling into the patrol car Emma couldn't help but notice Henry frantically staring at the deputy. She realized then that he didn't tell her anything about James, which means Killian either isn't in the storybook or Henry didn't know how to explain whatever it was that had happened.

Or, and perhaps more likely, the boy was just too emotionally drained to think about fairytale alter egos.

Emma knew she was.

"Henry, lad, we're glad you're alright, but you have to stop worrying your mum like this."

"I understand, Graham. I won't do it again." Killian looked back at Henry then, an expression Emma couldn't identify on his face.

"Henry, you like comic books right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"What's your favorite?"

"I don't know. I don't really have one. I like all of them."

"Easy to please then, ay?"

"I just like to read."

"Alright, mate." James turned back to the front, ending their conversation and Emma couldn't help sharing a look with Henry expressing the weirdness of the exchange. By the look on his face, he agreed.

When they all got out of the car at Regina's Henry grabbed her and whispered, "Was he weird like that before?"

"More awkward than weird, but yeah, kind of."

When Regina opened the door Henry ran past her, not stopping to see her. She looked down for a moment, clear, but not surprised, disappointment on her face. Regina addressed Graham and Killian, ignoring Emma behind them, "Thank you for finding him."

"With all due respect Madam Mayor, but we aren't the ones you should be thanking. Ms. Swan is the one who found him." Graham and James stepped to the side, motioning towards Emma behind them.

Regina nodded her head and gave an unwilling smile, "Of course," but she didn't thank her. "He seemed to have taken a shine to you."

Emma gave an awkward laugh, unsure of where this was going. The sensation of the situation was oddly familiar to Emma, it reminded her of being back in the Pride Lands, trying to escape from the guards chasing after her and the only way to safety was through a river full of hippos. The only way to get through it was to shed all of her extra weight and charge as quickly as she could across the river and hope that she didn't get torn to shreds.

People always talk about how dangerous crocodiles are, but they forget that a hippo will tear you apart before you even have the chance to hope of escape. As least a croc gives you the courtesy of time before it kills you.

And in that moment, Emma felt like she was about to run past a bloodthirsty hippo.

"I hope there's not a misunderstanding here. Don't mistake all of this as an invitation back into his life." Emma moved to speak, but Regina cut her off. "Ms. Swan, you made a decision ten years ago. And in the last decide while you've been… well, who knows what you've been doing? I've changed every diaper, soothed every fever, endured every tantrum. You may have given birth to him, but he is _my_ son."

Emma tried to interject, "I was not–" but Regina was not having it. She refused to lose control of the situation.

"No, you do not get to speak. You do not get to do anything. You gave up that right when you tossed him away. Do you know what a closed adoption is? It's what you asked for. You have no legal right to Henry, and you're going to be held to that." Regina was in her face now, staring down at her, trying to intimidate her.

Too bad she isn't the first villain who has tried to scare Emma.

"So I suggest you get in your car and you leave this town, because if you don't, I _will_ destroy you if it is the last thing I do."

"Regina, you can't–" Graham and James were trying to step in but Emma wasn't going to let them.

"This doesn't concern you, Sheriff." For a quick moment Emma turned her head and made eye contact with the duo behind her. Her military training coming through in the command, her voice was firm and begged no question, both Graham and James stopped in their attempt to diffuse the situation.

Turning back to Regina, Emma looked her in the eyes, refusing to stand down. "Do you love him?"

"Excuse me?" She looked offended and surprised, but Emma needed to know. While Emma wasn't interested in playing games with Henry, his mother was a different matter.

"Do you love him?" She repeated, louder and more clear, "Do you love Henry?"

"Of course I love him." Regina turned and slammed the door in her wake.

She wasn't lying, Emma knew, but it wasn't the truth the either. The feeling Emma got when Regina said she loved Henry, was the feeling she had when people she used to know told her that they loved her. Emma could feel it in her bones, the way Regina loved Henry is the way Ingrid had loved her. The way Neal had loved her. She could just name it now.

Corrupt.

Conditional.

Abusive.

She decided to book a room at Granny's indefinitely.

Graham and James drove her back to Granny's and on the way Graham attempted to justify Regina.

"Look, Regina is–" But apparently, James had had enough of his partner and was not putting up with him today.

"Don't even mate, you know that Regina crossed a line."

"I'm just–," But whatever expression was on James' face quickly made him stop, "You're right. I'm sorry, Emma."

Emma just nodded her head as she continued to look out the window. She needed a game plan, but right now all she had was Henry's storybook. It did seem like the best place to start.

"Emma," It was James, _Killian_ , he had turned around in his seat to get a full look at her and she couldn't stop herself from looking back at him. His expression was kind, and it made her smile. A small smile, but nonetheless in that moment she knew that whatever had happened to Killian in these years, he still had a good heart.

"If you're going to stay in Storybrooke, it might be a good idea for you to see the town. How about we take you on a tour sometime? Give you a much more pleasant welcome than what you've received today?"

Under normal circumstances, Emma would refuse the offer. She doesn't like to impose on people's generosity when she knows they're just being courteous. But what is happening in Storybrooke is not normal and requires exceptions. Plus, Emma had to admit, she wanted a chance to talk to James more and aside from Henry, and maybe Mary Margaret, he's been the nicest person to her so far.

It would be fun. Cursed or not, she's missed him.

"That sounds great, deputy."

"James, if you will. What about tomorrow morning? I'm on patrol and can show you around." He was eager, and he did a terrible job at hiding it. He still had the same nervous tick, reaching for his ear to scratch it.

"Tomorrow works, James." _Killian_.

When Emma walked into Granny's she didn't expect to interrupt a fight.

"You're out all night, and now you're going out again."

"I should have moved to Boston!"

"I'm sorry that my heart attack interfered with your plans to sleep your way down the eastern seaboard." Now that, Emma thought, was completely out of line and she wanted to stop it right there.

"Excuse me?"

Granny looked surprised by her presence, "I'd like to amend my reservation." The old woman looked nervous now, rubbing her hands together. Ruby walked back around the corner from where she had stormed off, watching the exchange as if it were a spectacle.

"Really?" She started waving a hand in the air and walked back around the desk at the entrance, "What would you like to do?"

"I'd like to make my reservation indefinite for the time being." Granny looked at her in surprise, she had told her last night that rent is due soon, so to sweeten the pot for taking one of their rooms for a long time Emma asked, "How much more do you need for rent?"

Granny froze in what she was doing with the reservation book. "Really?"

"How much do you need?"

"Two hundred." That wasn't as bad as what Emma expected, yesterday Granny acted like her life might end if she couldn't make rent. The person who owns the inn and restaurant must be a real hardass.

"Okay, I'd like to pay for however many nights four hundred will get me right now."

"But that's double what I said."

"I know, can I have my room now?" Emma could afford to let go of four hundred dollars, she had done well for herself in the military and the military paid well to hide the fact that they abused her unit. And honestly, they were all too tired after nine years to go after the most powerful entity in the US. They just wanted peace.

Sadly, peace can be hard to find.

Emma paid for her room, leaving Granny quietly stunned behind the counter.

Emma decided that the best way to keep notes wasn't with pen and paper, that would be too easy to steal. So when Emma restarted Henry's storybook, she opened up an app on her phone that required a password every time she opened it, and made notes as she read. It would be harder for someone to get their hands on her phone, more difficult to guess her password for her phone, and even harder to guess the password for the app.

 _Good luck figuring out the date I met Killian_. It wasn't written down on any paper, or impressed on anyone's memory. No one was with her that day and the only people who could maybe get the answer were impossible to track down.

So Emma took her time with the book, making notes when anything appeared important or like a clue. Emma realized pretty quickly that the stories aren't complete. The book was more like an anthology, full of moments but not developed plot. She would have to stitch together the events in order to make real sense of what happened, but her first impressions of the stories were that they weren't the traditional tales she had hugged closely to in her childhood.

The Evil Queen hated Snow White, but not for being the fairest of them all. She wanted revenge for a man named Daniel, Emma supposed it's a story further in the book because the next one was about the Huntsman. _Graham_.

Who was missing a heart.

Fantastic.

Emma spent the rest of her evening in this manner. Reading and taking notes, but when midnight struck on the clock tower she went to bed frustrated.

She still had no answers about Killian. He wasn't in the stories that she had read so far about Snow White, the Huntsman, the Wizard of Oz, and the Beauty and the Beast.

 _Killian Jones, who did you become?_

She really should just ask Henry.

Instead of going down to the docks to get a breather and help center her nervousness and anxiety, like she should, Emma started her day off with the storybook.

And quickly regretted it.

Emma Swan had not wanted to start off her day learning that Killian Jones had become Captain Hook.

For nearly _two_ centuries.

Just like all the other stories, this one was only a moment in time. The moment Killian lost a woman named Milah to the husband she left behind, Rumpelstiltskin. He had become the Dark One, ripped out her heart, and crushed it. Milah fell into Killian's arms and died, and when he picked up his sword to fight the Dark One he lost his hand.

Milah had loved him, and the story made it clear that he loved her, but not enough:

" _Killian Jones loved Milah, but his heart was never wholly hers. That guilt of knowing she deserved more, coupled with his anger at the gods, the kingdoms, the imp before him, and the rage he still felt at losing his brother as well as the grief knotted in his chest over a Swan, propelled him on a two hundred year old journey searching for revenge._

 _And so, with a makeshift brace and a fishing hook, Killian Jones became Captain Hook, and sailed for the Neverland."_


	3. Tomorrow Morning

[ _The Enchanted Forest Captain Killian Jones_ ]

Killian loved Milah, he did, but his love never burned bright. He was loyal, and he never wavered from her, but sometimes his thoughts would wander back to time with a woman who had emerald eyes and sunlight in her hair. _Emma_.

No matter how his heart whispered the name, it always felt like a prayer that could never be answer.

But he was content, happy even, with Milah. Milah who wanted to see the world. Milah who wanted to escape her nowhere life, with a husband she didn't love.

Milah who left a child behind because she couldn't be his best chance. Milah who could no longer pretend to love her husband for her son.

She wanted him to grow up knowing love and she wasn't a good enough example for him.

But she thought Rumple could be. The man who wounded himself to be with his child.

But still, Killian knew she missed him all the same.

Killian didn't tell her about Emma, but he knew she suspected that there was someone else. Someone she could never place in all the ports they've been too, because it was impossible for her to be anywhere.

So he reassured Milah that she was the only woman he loved, whispered it like a prayer at night in their bedsheets.

It's a shame that it couldn't drown out the praying of his heart.

 _Emma. Emma. Emma_.

He did his best to make Milah happy.

He didn't realize it wasn't enough until she was already gone, dead in his arms.

Then Killian understood that everything he had ever done was never enough.

He couldn't make his brother proud.

He couldn't stop his brother from dying.

He couldn't love Milah the way she deserved.

He couldn't save her from her maniacal husband.

He couldn't stop himself from thinking about Emma _Bloody_ Swan.

He couldn't see her again.

And he could never hate himself more.

He was angry. He was hateful. He was Captain Hook.

And he channeled everything that he could never do, and could never be, into Rumplestiltskin.

 _Time to skin ourselves a crocodile._

"What's the name of the place we're headed, Captain?"

His hook gave a terrifying click when he put it in place.

He gazed out at his crew over it as the portal opened up before them.

"Neverland!"

[ _Storybrooke_ ]

"Good morning, Swan. Ready for our day of adventure?" Emma could not believe that the man before her now, leaning against his car and smiling at her, was also Captain Hook. Who was Killian Jones. Who was an awkward and shy teenage boy the last time she saw him.

 _Two hundred years_.

For Emma it has been ten years and a lot has happened. She could not even begin to guess at everything that has happened to Killian in two hundred. But there were two things she was certain of:

That Killian lost a woman he loved, and

He lost his brother at some point before that.

There was one thing that she was uncertain of, but fairly confident: That she was the reason the storybook said his heart was never completely Milah's and she wasn't sure how to feel about that, or if Killian resented her for it.

"Good morning, Jones." Their exchange was painfully familiar to how they addressed each other all those years ago. Emma wondered if somewhere, deep in his mind, James felt it too. "I think I've had enough of adventures for a few days, how about a nice car ride instead?"

He laughed at that, "Whatever the lady desires." He threw his head toward the passenger-side of the patrol car, "Get in."

When she slid into the car Emma handed over a to-go cup of coffee. Years ago, Killian hated the bitter drink, but he was so exhausted at the time that he didn't care. Emma decided to find out if that's changed.

"Ahhh, coffee. A woman after my own heart." And he took a gratuitous drink.

Well, that answered that.

"So, where are we going?" She gave him her full attention, looking for any other difference in his appearance. She noticed a scar on his right cheek that wasn't there before, but other than that everything else exposed looked largely the same, minus the hand, hair, and beard.

"Well, my patrol takes me around the business part of town, through the residential, out by the school, and back past the docks, ending at the station around noon."

"Wait, that's four hours. Is this town so big that it really takes four hours to drive around?" Emma hadn't seen much of the town, but from her exposure yesterday she couldn't imagine that it required four hours to patrol the entire town.

Killian shrugged at her, "You stop every once in a while, and wait a bit before continuing on to the next part of town."

Emma nodded in what she could only assumed looked at least a little judgmental in manner. "Alright, seems pretty stupid to just sit and wait for someone do something right in front of a patrol car, but okay."

"I agree, a thief probably isn't going to do something right in front of a cop car, but that's the orders." Now _that_ sounded strikingly similar to the lieutenant she used to know, always trying to walk the line. However, now that Emma knew he had become a pirate captain, and a fairy tale villain at that, she couldn't help but question if the real Killian Jones would agree with that notion.

"Do you always follow orders, Deputy Jones?" Was that part of the curse? To take away his sense of autonomy by having him serve on the police force?

"Do you always question orders, Ms. Swan?"

"Sorry, but if you're going to use a title 'Captain' is much more fitting."

"Captain Swan?"

Usually Emma is wary when telling someone she was in the military, never certain of the response, but with Killian, _James_ , she hoped it might spark something. Anything.

"I was a captain in the military, so if you're going to sass me using formality you better get it right."

They ended up sassing their way through the business part of town.

Emma didn't know where a damn thing was.

And she didn't even mind.

"So, Deputy Jones, got any family anywhere?" They were sitting down the road from the school, waiting until it was time to move on to the docks, and Emma had been trying to politely but unsuspiciously pry information.

She wasn't really getting anywhere.

Most of his responses involved an iteration of the phrase "for as long as I can remember."

 _As long as I can remember_.

Emma concluded that the curse didn't really give them any specific memories, it didn't completely restructure their lives.

It erased who they were and gave them new identities, which made them complacent and unwilling to think about how they've been doing everything for as long as they could remember.

At least that's her conclusions for now, she hasn't finished the storybook.

"Nope, Swan, no family. Just some friends."

"Oh yeah, who?"

"Graham."

"That's your boss."

"So? What's wrong with that?" The Killian she had known was shy, but he wasn't a loner. He was too bright and fun for that.

"Nothing if that's enough for you." He looked away from her, out the window, and she could see the muscles in his jaw tensing. "Is that enough for you?"

"It's just fine, Emma." _Lie_.

She thought about Ruby and Granny fighting last night and the sweet melancholy of Mary Margaret yesterday. Was that part of the curse? To keep everyone dissatisfied, but subdued enough that they didn't do anything about it?

If part of the curse was to keep everyone isolated and unhappy, then part of unwinding it would be to bring people together. She couldn't help the whole town, but she could assist those around her.

Maybe starting small will help make the cracks show.

She really needed to finish the storybook.

"Emma. Emma, hello?" In the time since James' last comment Emma had drifted away both mentally and physically. While her mind had wandered onto the topic of the curse, her eyes and head had turned to the window away from James.

Apparently, he had said something to her.

"Hm? What? I'm sorry, I missed it?"

"I asked if you had any family or friends back in Boston? Anyone from the military that you still talk to?"

Emma never had any family growing up, and the closest person she had to it died years ago on one of their deployments. Everyone else had families, they had loved ones to be a part of and to be with, and despite all their invitations, Emma could never make herself get involved. When she tried, it always felt like she was wearing an itchy second skin to force herself to fit in with families and friends that didn't really want her.

 _That isn't true_.

But it felt like it.

"No, I don't have anyone, but I'd like to try to start changing that. I'm just not very good at it."

"I'd say you're off to a good start, Swan."

Before Emma could reply she heard the school bell ring and saw a flood of children running out for late morning recess

In that moment Emma understood why they were waiting around for so long.

 _Henry_.

He's giving her a chance to see her son.

"Go on, luv, see the lad."

Henry hadn't seen the patrol car sitting down the road, so when Emma walked up to the bench he was sitting on he was surprised, and elated.

"Emma! You're here!"

"Hey kid, how you doing?" Emma sat down next to him, James hadn't given her a timeframe but she hoped it was long enough to have a conversation with Henry. Looking at him, she could see the bags under his eyes. A ten year old should not look this tired.

"I'm alright, where were you this morning? I didn't see you at Granny's."

"I was in my room, reading the storybook. I didn't think I would have the chance to see you in the morning."

"I catch the bus outside of Granny's, you can see me every morning."

"Oh… I didn't realize. I will be there tomorrow."

"Good. So, how far have you made it?"

"Well, I just found out that our deputy is Captain Hook," Emma motioned over to where James stood with Mary Margaret, holding a bag from the back seat of the patrol car in his hand. "Which I was not prepared for."

"That's really him? The lieutenant?"

Emma looked over at James for a long moment, he must have felt her eyes on him because his turned to her, and smiled.

Emma gave a small smile back before turning again to Henry.

"Yeah, it's him. Now, I have a question about the curse. What exactly did it do?"

"It took away their happy endings. Everyone who should be together was separated and even if they got to stay together, like Ruby and Granny, their personalities have been twisted to make them fight all the time."

"So what do we need to do is bring people together?" While Emma had already come to this conclusion, Henry has been working through this much longer. Even though he's only ten, she understood that Henry is smarter and his insights would be invaluable to moving forward.

"Yes, exactly!"

"And where do we start?"

"With you. First you need to finish reading the book, and then we can start Operation Cobra."

"Operation Cobra? That has nothing to do with fairytales"

Henry grinned and leaned in to whisper, "Exactly. It's a code name to throw the Queen off the trail."

"Alright, I dig it." Emma looked at Henry and smiled, but there was still something that was bothering her. "Henry…why me? Why you? Why are we in this mess?" Maybe those aren't question a person should be asking a ten year old boy, but to Emma he seems to be the only one with any answers. "And please don't tell me that I need to finish the storybook. Just tell me."

Henry stared at her, uncertain. "Are you sure you want me tell you? That you don't want to find out on your own?" When Emma shook her head at him he continued, "You're here because you are in the book, Emma. You're the key to everything. You're the savior."

"The savior? How? Why?"

"Because you're the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming."

"I'm the what?!" In her shock and astonishment Emma spun herself off of the bench they were sitting on and ended up kneeling on the ground in front of Henry. Her hands were grasping at the air in front of her, wanting to reach out and grab Henry, but unwilling to have contact with anyone at the moment. Her parents? She doesn't have parents. Emma Swan has been alone her entire life, and it was incredibly difficult to believe that the answers to her questions have been in a cursed town, in the middle-of-nowhere Maine, her entire life.

Henry grabbed her hands that were grasping in the air and held them, "Please, just read the book. It's all there, I promise." He was staring at her, silently trying to reassure her that everything was going to be alright.

Thankfully for Emma she didn't have to try to respond because Mary Margaret and James decided to walk over in that moment.

"Hello lad, how are you today?" Henry didn't miss a beat and went straight in on telling James about his day, like he had a well practiced speech already prepared. Living with Regina he might really have one ready.

Emma stepped away, hoping for some space from Henry's reveal and the woman who was supposedly her mother.

"Hi Emma, I'm happy to see you."

"Uh, hi Mary Margaret." They stood in silence for a moment, Emma was trying to think of an escape when Mary Margaret continued

"It's good to see his smile back." She was looking at her like Emma had something to do with it and Emma wasn't entirely sure she could disregard that notion. _I believe him_.

But still she felt, "I didn't do anything."

"You stayed."

 _You stayed_.

"So, does the mayor know you're still here?"

"I haven't seen her since yesterday, but I'm sure she knows. What's her deal anyway? How did she get elected?"

"She's been mayor for as long as I can remember. No one's ever been brave enough to run against her. She inspires quite a bit of, well, fear. I'm afraid I've only made it worse for giving Henry that book. Now he thinks she's the Evil Queen."

"I wouldn't feel too bad about it, it seems to be helping him through a difficult time."

"Yeah, but his therapist says that book has made him disillusioned."

"I'm sorry, his therapist said what now?"

"Dr. Hopper said–"

"Is this coming from Dr. Hopper or did Henry tell you this?"

"Dr. Hopped told me."

"Do you understand how wildly inappropriate that is?" From her expression Mary Margaret clearly hadn't thought about. "If I were you, Ms. Blanchard, I wouldn't be listening to an asshole who obviously doesn't respect or care about his patients enough to keep their conversations confidential. Especially conversations with a ten year old boy. He should be protecting Henry, not gossiping about him."

"You're absolutely right, I've never thought about it before. It's just that…" Mary Margaret was looking at the ground, her head slowly shaking as she looked up at Emma. "It's just that he's always done it with Henry. He never talks about any of his other patients, only Henry. Why would he do that? Unless…"

"Unless Regina is forcing him to do it."

"But she's his mother, she should be protecting him."

"A lot of the people who should have been protecting him have fallen short, apparently."

"And I'm one of them. That book I gave him only made him more unhappy and caused him to create this whole alternate reality where we're all fairytale characters. That isn't–"

"Impossible."

"What"

"You said so yourself. Regina has been the mayor for as long as you remember, but what's the age difference between you two? Ten years at most? How can you remember only her being the mayor?"

Mary Margaret didn't know how to respond to that, looking every bit as uncomfortable as the curse could make her. Emma took the opportunity to turn back to Henry only to find him nose deep in comic books.

"Emma! Look at the stuff James got me!" They spent the next few minutes together looking through his new books before James told Emma that they needed to get back on patrol.

She left with a promise to Henry that she would see him in the morning.

Back in the car Emma told James, "It was nice of you to give him all of those books."

A blush spread across his cheeks, tinting his ears, "Yeah, well, the boy seems to be going through a rough spot. Thought giving him some of my favorite comics and graphic novels might help, at least a little bit." There it was, the famous Killian Jones nervous tick resurrected from her memories so it could be displayed before her today.

That stupid, adorable, ear scratch.

James went back to his narrating of the town, going back through the main part of town before hitting the docks. He pointed out the abandoned library and the pawn shop, and this time Emma caught that almost everything in the town was owned by one Mr. Gold.

"Have you met him yet? Mr. Gold?"

"No, I haven't."

"Well, I'm not the person to introduce you. He doesn't seem to like me very much."

"How come?"

"Not sure exactly."

Emma let the conversation slip away after that, filing those details away for another day.

If Snow White was her mother, then where was Prince Charming?

"Come on, let me show you the station." James didn't leave much room for negotiation.

They walked in to find a frustrated Sheriff Graham Humbert.

He was having trouble getting a program to work on his _ancient_ computer.

Emma watched for a few minutes as Graham, the Huntsman who is _missing his heart_ , and James struggled with the machine. She finally stepped in when the sheriff started smacking his hand against it.

"Here–just– _move_." She shoved her way between them, highlighted all of the files, and clicked "run." "You didn't have anything selected, that's why it wasn't working. You have to tell it what you want it to do first." It was the most basic use of a computer, and yet it seemed to be the most impressive thing they have ever seen.

Graham and James stared at her in astonishment, like they've never seen someone who knew how to use a computer before.

It's probable that they haven't.

"You're hired."

"Wait, what?"

"If you're staying in Storybrooke, you need a job and I need a person who knows how to use a computer."

"So I'd be what, your secretary?" He was right, Emma would need a job, but she didn't want one as a secretary.

"No, you'll be a deputy with Jones here." Now _that_ is something she could live with. It would help get her foot in the door with the town, help make connections and figure out who is separated from who.

"Regina going to be okay with this?" Regina wouldn't want her in the station, so Emma figured that this had to be purely Graham's idea. Just how much does Regina control him with his heart? She can't get too close to Graham, if he finds out too much then she might lose some ground with the Evil Queen.

"I don't care. It's my department." Is it now?

"When do I start?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow. Later Jones." She brushed past them, making a mock salute with her hand, as she made her way out of the station, invigorated and ready to go.

"Wait!" It was James and he had wheeled around to face her, his eyes had widened and his blush was back, as well as his nervous tick. Hand at his ear he asked, "Do you want to get some lunch with us to talk about the job?"

She smiled at him, "I think I heard enough for now on the patrol today, Jones. Besides, I promised Henry that I'd read something for him and I'd like to finish it tonight." He nodded his head in understanding."

"Have a good day."

 _Step one: finish the storybook_.

Her plan was to go straight to Granny's.

Her plan was not to run into Archie Hopper, the therapist who gossips about a ten year old boy.

Her plan was also not to be offered the files of her ten year old son who has a right to his privacy.

And finally, her plan was not to yell at him.

But yell she did.

"Do you know how inappropriate this is?" Archie tried to talk, but _fuck him_. "He is your _patient_. _Everything_ that goes on between you two is confidential and you're offering me his files? He is supposed to be able to _trust_ you _Dr. Hopper_ , and you repay that by gossiping about him? By making people think he's crazy? You're an adult, he's a child." She wanted to shove him, to push him with every point, but if she touched him this became an assault and Emma didn't need that right now. Henry didn't need that.

"You're supposed to be protecting him, but all you're doing is demeaning him and his beliefs, telling people he's disillusioned when it is _none_ of their business. He's a _child_ and you," she was in his face now, finger centimeters away from his face, "are taking advantage of him. What are you doing? Pushing Regina's agenda? Is that why it is only Henry that you go around telling people about?" His face was red with emotion, but whether it was anger, embarrassment, or shame Emma couldn't tell.

And she didn't care.

"He's supposed to be able to trust you, Archie, and all you are doing is only hurting him more when he needs you the most."

At that last statement he flinched. Now, he had nothing to say. He could only look embarrassed and ashamed.

"I can't stop you from seeing Henry because I have no legal right, but I can tell you to get away from me. So, Dr. Hopper, get the _fuck_ away from me, you manipulative piece of shit." Emma didn't wait for him to walk away, instead she stonewalled his shoulder as she continued on to Granny's, knocking him out of the way.


	4. Let's Start With Right Now

**CHAPTER FOUR: Let's Start With Right Now**

Emma arrived at Granny's Inn to find a well dressed man waiting at the counter.

 _Rumplestiltskin_. He was much less… leathery than his storybook counterpart. More human than Killian's crocodile and Dark One.

"Mrs. Lucas, if you don't have the rent I'll be generous. You can have until the end of the day to get out."

"Mr. Gold, I just need some more time. I can get you the money by the end of the week."

"Ah, but dearie, the rent is due _now_."

Here Emma made her presence known. She had given Granny enough money to cover the rent, what was going on?

"Oh Emma! I need to speak with you immediately." Granny started fumbling her way around the counter, obvious fear on her face of the man before her. Emma couldn't stop herself from frowning at the scene, in her real life Granny had been fearless. She had protected her granddaughter with the ferocity of the bravest soldiers Emma had ever known and harbored her the fugitive and treasonous Snow White at the risk of her own life.

And the curse makes her cower at a man in a suit.

Gold stepped forward before Granny could make her way around the counter, "Emma? What a lovely name. Emma." If Regina reminded her of a hippo that would tear her limb from limb, Mr. Gold looked like a man who would drag you down to the bottom of a river and drown you before eating you.

 _Like a crocodile_.

Emma hated dealing with crocodiles during deployment.

Before Gold could come any closer to her Granny rushed past him and dragged Emma off to the side.

Around a corner Granny tried to shove all the money Emma had given her into her hands.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Have it all back, it's yours'."

"What? Wait. Wait." Emma grabbed the old woman's hands, holding them steady from their frantic movements. "What's going on, Mrs. Lucas?"

Granny now was holding on to her tightly, "I'm so sorry Emma, but you can't stay here anymore." Emma blinked at her in silence, "The mayor's office called. Apparently there's a city ordinance against renting to felons."

"Seriously?" How did they find out she was a felon? Those records are sealed.

"I'm afraid I need you to leave, which is why I can't keep your money. You've already paid in full, something you didn't have to do, and I have no right to keep it now. So here." She was holding out all of the money Emma had given her, waiting for her to take it.

Emma didn't care about the money, she cared that Regina apparently had strong enough connections to illegally obtain records that were sealed for a minor. Emma cared because she was uncertain of what Regina was going to do with the information.

She stepped back, "Keep the money."

"What?" She had backed far enough away from her now that she could see Gold around the corner paying apt attention to them.

"Keep it. You need it more than me." She didn't wait for her response. Instead she snatched a newspaper off of the counter and walked up the stairs, exchanging a polite smile and "have a nice day" with Gold as she passed, grabbed her very few items that she had with her, including the storybook, and left.

She ended up at the docks.

[ _Boston 2010_ ]

Dr. Rochelle Washington, Rochelle as she told Emma to call her, was her new therapist and Emma couldn't stop herself from tearing the edges of the written up instructions to the office she had made. As she waited she started to concentrate on making different textures and patterns in the paper by crumpling it and wringing it in her hands. Logically, she knew that she was able to breathe just fine, but that didn't stop the feeling of restriction in her chest and the panicking thought of _I can't breathe_ from hammering in her head as she put all of her physical attention into the piece of paper.

"Emma?" Her eyes snapped up to Rochelle whose body was leaning out of her office door, she opened it up wide and gave her bright and energetic smile, "Please come in."

Emma wanted to look casual, she wanted to look calm, but she could feel the quickness of her steps and the wildness of her eyes.

"Emma, how are you today?"

"Fine. You?"

Rochelle smiled at her again and nodded very gently at her, "I'm okay, but I'm a little worried about you. You just told me your fine, but the tightness of your voice and that piece of paper you have in a death grip tells me otherwise." When Emma didn't respond to her she asked, "Emma, for our relationship to work I only ask for one thing from you: honesty. The truth for yourself, not for me. Everything that happens here, this process that you are going through Emma, it is all for you. And you deserve to be honest with yourself. You need it to free yourself from your thoughts, you will feel better once you do.

"I understand, Emma, that this is frightening for you. To open up to someone is always a risk and worse if it's a stranger and a therapist, but I am here to assist you and help you in however you need it. You don't have to start at the worst of it, but you do need to start somewhere. If you can start, Emma, it will get easier."

Emma's arms were gripped tightly around her chest, her eyes trained on the end of Rochelle's foot that was dangling in the air as the crossed her legs. Her chest still hurt and her eyes began to water.

Rochelle reached across the distance between them and handed her a tissue.

Tearfully, Emma told her, "I don't know how to start."

Rochelle gave her a gentle smile, "Let's start with right now, this moment. Could you describe to me what you're experiencing right now? How you internally feel?"

[ _Storybrooke_ ]

The stress of the last three days had finally caught up to her. It felt like her chest was barely moving, it was so tight. Her hands were shaking, her body demanded that she get up off of the picnic table she had sat herself at and frantically move around the docks. Her mind was in a similar state to what her body was in, her thoughts were racing and she didn't know where the finish line was.

But she couldn't move. If she did people would see, and if they saw her they would talk about it to other people, and if other people find out then eventually Regina would find out and then Regina would somehow use it against her just like she is going to use the knowledge that Emma's a felon against her.

She wanted to dig her hands into her hair, grab on tight, and cradle her head in her hands as her legs bounced uncontrollably.

Instead she did her best to keep her eyes on the small fishing boat in the water next to her. She watched as the waves lapped against the ship and did her best to count how many times it occurred.

She kept losing track.

If she was in Boston she would be putting her energy into drawing the scene she was so carefully watching, but she wasn't. She was in Storybrooke, where the only things she had to her name here was her car and the few possessions she had in it.

Her therapist had told her so many times to keep supplies in her car.

 _Breathe Emma_. _Fucking breathe. In and out with your stomach, not your chest._

It had taken her an hour, but she finally counted to thirty. Another half hour and she was able to count to a hundred laps of the waves. She waited another half hour to pull out the storybook. She would wait on looking through the newspaper for apartments.

She didn't need reminded that she was homeless.

Again.

How many times was that?

 _Stop it Emma. Look at the book._

She spent the next few hours reading and taking notes. She had taken her time with the book before, but now she just focused on finishing it and coming back to it later with some perspective.

Still, even though Henry had told her that Snow White was her mother she wasn't ready for the end of the book.

 _They had to give their daughter, and their kingdom, the best chance they could. And so, Once Upon a Time there was a princess and prince who loved their daughter, princess Emma very much. They dreamed of her having the most magical life, but it broke their hearts to know that they might never be a part of it._

 _But it was her best chance._

Emma had not seen the man who was her father. The last scene of him in the storybook was of her mother, Snow White, holding him in her arms after he risked his life to send her through the wardrobe. She couldn't help but wonder if he was dead.

Her throat was tight and she felt the tears welling in her eyes. Her parents had loved her, they had wanted her.

Emma had always been wanted.

She had always been loved.

She turned back to the lapping of the water.

"Swan? How are you?" It was James, and he was walking towards her. Vaguely Emma thought she should move the book, hide it away from him, but a larger part of her wanted him to see it. To flip through it and find his face glaring back at him. To remember something, anything. She'd had a rough afternoon and she needed a win.

She kept the book on the table.

When he got closer he could see the strain on her face, the redness that was evidence of her ordeal. "Emma, are you alright?" He was sitting next to her now and was watching as she laughed awkwardly at the question.

Emma didn't want to talk to him about bad days, and she didn't want to talk to him about good days. She knew he would find out eventually, she isn't ashamed about what she has been through and her traumas.

But she never knew how a person would react.

So she lied.

"I'm fine, Jones. Just taking in the view." She couldn't make herself call him James. That name was a lie, but at least he still had Jones. It was soothing to her that she could tap into the familiar repertoire they had established all those years ago.

"Ahh," he knew she was lying, she could tell, but didn't press her on it. Emma was grateful for it.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before she was asked, "Have you ever sailed before?" Emma blinked at him for a moment, but he just stared out at the horizon and the slowly setting sun.

She watched him throughout her answer, looking for any recognition. "Yeah, I learned to sail while in the Army. I did it often enough that I got pretty decent at it. I could probably pass muster on a pirate crew. Or the Royal Navy of some magical kingdom." She smiled at him, hoping for some reaction.

He nodded slowly, "I never have, but I've always wanted to. What is it like?"

"It is singularly one of the most amazing feelings I have ever experienced. There is nothing like having the wind in your hair, in the sails above you, and at your back. It is similar to when you're hiking and miles and miles away from civilization. Nothing else matters in that moment, but your freedom. The only thing that can improve the experience is if you had your closest friends with you."

"Did you have friends with you? Fellow soldiers?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes it was just me." Thinking about Killian, "Or occasionally, and during very special moments, I had new friends with me who came to be very… important to me. When the only thing around to hear you is the elements people tend to be more open."

She smiled at the memory of her and Killian getting to know each other in the open grasslands on the border of Tanzania and the Pride Lands. He had been nervous and agitated by the land, having never been so far away from the sea.

They had gotten closer as they spoke, their heads not far apart. James seemed to realize this and jumped back, "Well, it is getting late. I better go home. Do you want me to walk you back to Granny's?"

"Oh, uh," She hadn't told him about the ordinance and he hadn't heard about it earlier, if he had he might have found her sooner, "I drove, but thanks." He didn't need to know and she didn't need his sympathy.

"Oh, well, good night Emma."

"Good night, Jones."

She watched him walk away before gathering her book and heading for her car.

 _He didn't even look at the damn thing._

Enough time had passed now for Emma to be angry. She was reading the newspaper in her car, parked not far away from the abandoned library, trying _not_ to seethe over Regina conveniently having a city ordinance that bars felons from renting in the town, when a rap at her window startled her. It was Mary Margaret, _her_ _mother_ , and she looked concerned.

"Hey Emma, what are you doing?"

Emma waved the newspaper she held in her hands making it snap in the air before her, "Just, you know, reading the paper."

"At night?" Mary Margaret leaned forward, her head poking through the window and taking in the cramped space of the old bug, "In your car?" She was incredulous and Emma couldn't blame her. "With a flashlight?"

"Can't really read it anywhere else, not allowed to stay at Granny's." When Granny told Emma that she had to leave she had the most remorseful look on her face. " _It's a city ordinance."_ That didn't make it sting any less. Emma had done her year in prison, she reformed and even enlisted to help improve her life. But there's no getting better in the eyes of the government. She fought and almost died for her country multiple times, but god forbid she be allowed to vote or rent a hotel room.

"What? Why?" Mary Margaret was cold, her arms tight around her chest.

"City ordinance against felons. Have to sleep in my bug, I've been in tighter spots." Mary Margaret didn't respond at first, comprehension blooming on her face. Emma thought she was planning her escape route. People don't like you when they find out you've been to prison.

"Come stay with me." _Come with me_. For a moment a different head of black hair fluttered across her memory, a lost chance reminding her to take new opportunities.

"What?"

"Yeah, I don't have an ordinance against friends in my apartment and I have an extra bed. It'll be fun." She was trying to be cheerful, to make the best of the situation, but Emma didn't need her sympathy. And she didn't need to be a burden. Mary Margaret has a life, her own apartment, her own things, she doesn't need her, and she doesn't really want her. She's just being nice.

"But I'm a felon."

"And my friend." Emma couldn't believe this, she had just met this woman.

"Mary Margaret you don't have to–"

"Are you planning on leaving?" Emma stared at her, not expecting the question.

Mary Margaret asked again, her expression had changed to absolute determination, "Are you planning on leaving Storybrooke? Leaving Henry when he just found you?"

"No, I'm not. But I can't–"

"You can live with me." Before Emma could retort Mary Margaret had walked around the car and was sitting in her passenger seat. "There's a second parking spot in front of my apartment."

"Let me make you hot chocolate." _okayokayokay_. She was in _her mother's apartment_. Her mother. Who made her come home with her. Who welcomed her into her home.

Her mother.

"Do you have any bags? Anything you need to bring up from your car?"

"Uh, no. All I have it what I've got on me right now."

Mary Margaret frown at her from where she stood at the stove heating milk, "Do you have any friends who could send you your things?" When Emma numbly shook her head yes she continued, "Well then, let me give you the address so they can send you your things."

She handed her a piece of paper with the address on it a few minutes later with the hot chocolate she had made for Emma.

The flavor of the hot chocolate brought Emma out of her reverie, "Cinnamon?"

"Oh. I'm sorry. I should have asked. It's a little quirk of mine. Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

 _Must be a family thing_.

Mary Margaret was being so comforting, so kind to her. Emma wondered if it was just who she was, or if on some level Mary Margaret knew that she was her daughter and was taking advantage of finally being able to care of her after so much lost time.

The idea made Emma want to cry.

"Why do you trust me, Mary Margaret? I mean, you know I'm a criminal."

"It's strange– Ever since you arrived here, I've had the oddest feeling like we met before. I mean, I know it's crazy."

"I don't think crazy is the word for it. Maybe just, uncomfortable to think about? But you know, it's the things that make us uncomfortable that keep us honest."

Mary Margaret chuckled at that, "Yeah, I guess so. If it makes you feel any better, I'm glad you're staying. Who will protect Henry if you won't?"

In that moment Emma thought about her own ten year old self, crying and begging for her mother to come save her. To protect her from every bad thing she had ever experienced. No matter how old she got, despite the fact that she had never had a parent who loved her, and had always been alone, she couldn't stop that small, child voice that was embedded deep in her soul from crying for her mother when things got tough.

The next morning Emma waited for Henry at Granny's dinner, just like she told him she would.

"Did you finish it?" At her approach Henry started frantically shoving a newspaper out of the way, trying to hide it. Emma frowned at that, but decided to not to pursue it.

"I sure did, kid."

"And you believe it? All of it?"

"Yes. I do." Emma had practiced this moment when she woke up this morning. She knew how important it was for Henry that she did not hesitate. Everything is raw between them, their entire lives have been affected by the events recorded in that book. They have both suffered various kinds of abuse because of it.

Emma wanted him to know that she was in this for the long haul.

She leaned forward as far as she could in the booth before telling Henry in a low voice, "Henry, I am meeting with Regina around the time you get out of school today." She had called her cell phone earlier in the morning, Regina, ever the people person, demanded a meeting. "I need you to know that absolutely everything I say to her is to placate her to the best of my ability. We can't have Regina on our tails, if she finds out what we're doing she can intervene. Maybe she doesn't have magic here, but she does have power and she can make life very difficult for us. We need her to be as unaware as possible of Operation Cobra."

Henry leaned forward too, his face inches away from hers, "I know that."

"I know you do, but I just wanted to reassure you that I believe you and that everything that I say to Regina is to make our lives easier, which means some things might get back to you about me that will hurt you Henry. Try your hardest to believe that it isn't true."

He smiled at her, "I will, Emma. I believe you too."

"Good. Now, why don't you show me that newspaper you tried so hard to hide earlier?"

"It's going to upset you." Emma's stomach dropped, Regina knows about her felony if she…

"Henry, please?"

He unwrinkled the paper that he had shoved so unceremoniously into his seat to reveal the front page headline: EX-JAILBIRD EMMA SWAN BIRTHED BABE BEHIND BARS.

She leaned back, draping an arm over the booth's seat, taking a deep breath as she did so. "Well, they really like alliteration."

"You're not upset?"

"Oh, Henry, I am upset, but that isn't going to change the fact that that newspaper has already been circulated around town and now everyone knows about it." She leaned forward again, but not as far as the first time, resting on her elbows. "What I'm most worried about is you. Are you okay?"

Henry nodded at her. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm happy, actually. I read it and it's everything you already told me. You were honest with me, usually adults lie to kids. I really happy that I can trust you."

Emma could feel her throat constricting at his admission. "Me too kid."

She had to mentally prepare herself for walking into the station. Part of her past was out, perhaps the most unfortunate section of it, but it wasn't the full story and it shouldn't stop her from keeping her brand new job as a deputy.

She didn't have a resume typed up and printed out to hand to Graham, but she could recite one off the top of her head. In the military you have to be able to remember dates and events like your completing an introductory history class.

She was steeled and she was ready.

And she was right.

Graham came right at her.

" _Get out_. I can't have a felon in my department, Emma! Who do you think you are? We'll lose all funding!"

"Graham, mate–"

"No Jones, we can't have a _criminal_ working in the _sheriff's department_."

Emma had to appreciate the irony of a huntsman saying that to a pirate.

"If you're done, Sheriff, may I speak?"

"What can you possibly have to say? I don't want to hear your justifications."

"I offer no justifications, sir."

His hands were on his hips, and she could see the butt of his pistol sticking out. Had she been anyone else, Emma might have been intimidated, but given her experience she just found it comical. "Go on, then."

"Yes, I did commit a felony. I helped someone bench about 10,000 dollars worth of watches, and had I thought it would become a problem I would have told you outright, but considering those records were sealed I considered the matter irrelevant."

"Sealed?"

"Yes, sir. I was a minor when I committed the crime and sentenced to prison. Barely seventeen, in fact. Those are juvenile records, meaning they were illegally obtained."

Graham's stance changed, he had dropped his arms, hiding his gun behind his leather jacket. He exchanged a glance with James, they both realized the same thing: Emma isn't the criminal in this situation.

"However, sir, since this part of my past has come to light and caused some backlash, I believe it would be in mine and the department's best interest if I also exposed some of my other experiences to you.

Now I don't have paperwork with me, so if you need it written down, I suggest you grab a pen and some paper for your notes." Emma suppressed a smile when they pulled out little cop notebooks and pencils from their breast pockets. They looked like dorks.

"Yes, I did go to prison when I was seventeen. And I did give birth to Henry while there. He knows that already, I told him at the castle the other day. While in prison I got my GED and got some college credit, which allowed me to enlist in the military when I got out shortly after 9/11.

I was in the Army for nearly ten years. I was an active duty combat soldier and I took coursework with me overseas and got my BA in History in three years. I mostly focused on military history. I became a lieutenant at 21, then a captain at 24. The reason I promoted so quickly was because the unit I was in, which was special ops, had leave to work differently from other portions of the Army.

I have faced terrorist organizations, bandits, thieves, pirates, mercenaries, wild animals. You name it and I've probably dealt with it. After I got out I did bail bonding until Henry found me and brought me here.

I have suffered many injuries, but the most important is that when I was 23, me and the three good soldiers in front of me were caught in an IED blast. It killed the two in front, dismembered the third, and maimed me. My lower left leg was severely damaged, but was mostly recoverable with metal put in it to replace bone. I do wear a brace inside of my boot, but considering I went on to serve another four years I think I am physically able to be a deputy in a small town."

"Emma, you don't need to–"

" _I am not done_." She was angry and aggravated that she was put on trial thanks to Regina, but she needed people in her corner. Starting with the people she was going to be working with.

"I have panic or anxiety attacks, usually early in the morning after nightmares that are caused by PTSD, but undealt with stress can also lead to them. No, I can not say with surety that it will not interfere with my job. I can say that it _shouldn't_ , but just as with all mental health issues there are good days and bad days."

"Emma, don't have to–"

" _I am talking_. You're right. I _should not_ have to do this, but I do because Regina did something illegal, and _I_ am the one who has to deal with the backlash. I am the one now on trial to the _entire fucking town_ , and if I am going to be able to start any kind of life here and move past this slanderous article, I need the two people I am working with to not call me a fucking felon and show people, through being decent human beings to me, that I am not someone they should be afraid or hateful of. Understood, _Sheriff_?"

Graham shook his head, "Yes."

"Yes what?" It was instinct, honestly, that brought out that comment and snark. As a captain you expect more than a casual response when addressing a series topic or matter, and Emma was in a mood to fight for the respect she deserves.

"Yes, ma'am."

She turned now to James, who had remained silent throughout her entire monologue. She was much less hostile towards him, but still commanding, "Understood, deputy?"

"Yes, Captain Swan." She narrowed her eyes at him, but he was smiling at her. It was small and reassuring.

She asked him, "Good, now am I still fired or can I sit at my desk and have some shitty coffee?"

Graham was slow to move, still partially flummoxed by the onslaught of information and anger, but James was quick to move.

"Yep, here's a cup of coffee and your desk is the one closest to the window."

She sat down with her coffee and stared at them, waiting.

Eventually they figured out that she was expecting something, "What?"

"Are you not going to tell me what I should be doing or am I just supposed to figure it out?"

"Oh, right. Well, first let's start with the uniform."

"Uniform?" Graham was on a roll this morning, Emma could tell, because neither he nor James were wearing a uniform and if he thought he was going to make _her_ wear one he was dead wrong.

James stood back, nervously scratching at his ear, as Graham pulled out the ugliest clothing get up Emma had ever seen.

"A _tie_?"

"It's the uniform."

"Then why aren't either of you wearing it?" James shrugged at her. The Killian Emma remembered, while shy, wasn't afraid to speak up or interfere when he disagreed with something, but here, in Storybrooke, at every turn he has been sidelined as submissive. The only time where he had made his voice heard was in the patrol car after they had found Henry, and Regina had threatened Emma. It had to be part of the curse that twisted his character.

"We've been here long enough."

"And how long is that? We're about the same age, Graham. Just how long have you been in the police force?"

For a moment she could see complete and utter bafflement on his face, like a man grasping for an answer he should know, but just can't find.

"You think on that, but in the meantime I'll take the badge and leave the uniform. You don't need to dress a woman like a man to give her authority, just so you know." Taking the badge from his left hand, she clipped it onto her belt and felt the earth shake beneath her.


	5. An Innocent Life

"Everyone! Step back, please!" It was Regina, and she was yelling at the gathered townspeople at the entrance of the collapsing mine.

"Is that a crater?" Ruby, _Red_ , asked, but before Regina could begrudgingly address her a man stepped in who Emma recognized as Geppetto from the storybook.

"No, there were tunnels- old mines. Something collapsed."

"Sheriff, set up a police perimeter. Marco, why don't you go help the fire department? Miss Swan, this is now official government business. You're free to go."

Looked like Regina didn't get the memo. Or Graham was just too scared to tell her.

"Well, actually, I work for the town now." Emma enjoyed the quick look of shock and anger that flashed across the major's face.

"She's my new deputy."

Regina sneered at them, "You already have a deputy, sheriff, or has Jones been slacking?"

"No, we just had room in the budget for another one and I thought we could use the extra set of hands." Graham insisted.

"Indeed. Well, they say the mayor's the last to know. Deputies, why don't you go help with crowd control?"

Stepping back, Regina began to address the crowd as Emma and James moved to push them back. "People of Storybrooke, don't be alarmed. We've always known this area was honeycombed with old mining tunnels. But fear not. I'm going to undertake a project to make this area safe–to rehabilitate it for city use. We will bulldoze it, collapse it, pave it."

Emma's phone started to ring, it was Mary Margaret. Emma ignored her, but Mary Margaret refused to stop.

Annoyed, she finally picked up. "What is it? In case you didn't know there was an earthquake and I'm kinda busy."

"Emma, _Henry's missing_. _Again_."

That is when Henry decided he had done enough hiding and jumped out of the crowd to interrogate his mother, "Pave it? What if there's something down there?" Emma had to admit, the thought crossed her mind too. Is there something down there?"

Emma let out a long breath before responding to Mary Margaret, "Yeah, nevermind that. The kid just popped out of the crowd like magic. I've got it, don't worry." She didn't wait for her to respond before hanging up.

"Henry? What are you doing here?" Regina was bending to his height, clearly trying to have a private conversation in front of a large crowd.

Henry wasn't having it, "What's down there?"

" _Nothing_." But Henry had seen her pick up the same piece of glass Emma caught sight of her doing earlier.

"What's that? What did you pick up?" Before he could continue with his line of questioning the mayor ordered the sheriff to remove him from the site. Graham handed him over to Emma, telling her to take him to the patrol car. They could hear Regina's voice calling over the crowd.

"Emmmmaaa, there's something down there. We have to get in there."

"Henry, listen to me. Do _not_ go into those tunnels."

"I wasn't–" He was making that face. _Her_ face. The face she knows she makes when she's thinking about doing something totally stupid but possibly worth it. The face she makes when she plans on going in on something alone, no matter what the cost. It was like looking in a mirror.

And it terrified her.

"What did I say about playing games?"

"That I needed to be honest with you."

"Exactly, so do you want to try again?"

"I was just thinking that if we could get down there we might find something."

She leaned on the ground before him, similar to the first night they arrived in Storybrooke. Vaguely she could hear Regina still giving orders in the distance, "Henry, I agree that there might be something down there, but it isn't worth it."

"But," God, she wanted to interrupt him. She wanted to just _make_ him understand and not listen to him, but she knew that it would only make it worse. Besides, too many people already don't listen to him. "What if it is worth it?"

"Here, in this instance, it isn't. It is too dangerous Henry. This entrance is collapsing, and if you get stuck down there there is no coming out." He was pouting at her, but she could see he was wavering. "Listen, this is a mine entrance, right? Marco said that there are tunnels all over the place, I bet I can find an old map that in the station or courthouse that will show us where everything is and we can go about this _safely_. I just need you to be patient, can you do that?"

He nodded at her as she saw Regina and Archie approaching them over his shoulder.

"One last thing: Remember, we need to placate your mother. That means _don't start fights with her_." Standing up and stepping back from Henry she greeted Regina.

Regina didn't even look at her. At least Archie smiled, but she nodded in return.

 _Fuck him_.

"Henry, how are you here? You're supposed to be in school? Does Ms. Blanchard actually work?"

"We took a field trip to the hospital, I snuck out when the quake happened."

"They should fire that woman. Henry you're going with Archie for now, deputy get back to work." She stormed off quickly, leaving the three of them huddled around the patrol car. Emma didn't want to leave Henry, so she lingered.

Henry turned to her, "Did you do anything different today?"

She showed him her badge, "I put this on."

"That's it! That's why this happened. You put on the badge. Everytime you made a series decision something physical happens with the town. Like when you told me you were going to stay and the clock tower rang. Emma, that clock has never worked until that moment."

She had to admit, Henry had a point.

Archie picked that point to clear his throat, "Excuse me, Henry, but I think it's best we get going."

Henry looked around himself quickly, and must have decided it was safe because he lunged forward into Emma's torse. He hugged her tightly and briefly before pulling away, "Bye, Emma. I'll see you tomorrow at Granny's?"

"Yep, I'll be there, Henry." She reached out her hand, but paused half stretched out. She wanted to ruffle his hair, to show some kind of affection like he had, but they had already toed the line with their hug. She dropped her hand. "Goodbye, kid."

She watched as they walked away and started to turn herself when Henry yelled out, "Wait!" He ran up to her and pulled her down so he could whisper close to her, "We found your dad today at the hospital. Ask Ms. Blanchard about the coma guy."

 _Her father_. Emma didn't expect the flood of relief and excitement coursing through her, but she revelled in it.

They said their goodbyes again and Emma finally got back to work, but they didn't leave before she saw a quick and heated exchange between the therapist and the mayor. She only caught snippets of their conversation.

" _Everything I do… horrible plot… thinking I'm hiding something… logical…"_

" _... amazing imagination…"_

" _...you let run rampant…"_

" _...wrong to rip away… he's constructed…"_

" _...I can fire you… my town…"_

" _... have me do?"_

" _... take that delusion… and you crush it… or I will–"_

" _... do your worst?... I will always do my best…"_

" _... test me…"_

" _... custody battle… they'll ask an expert… fit parent?... Emma has been better to him than you...do it the way my conscious tells me to... "_

Their conversation dissipated quickly after that, but it looked like Archie came away with the upperhand.

Maybe the guy has a backbone after all.

Hours passed as they cleared the site, set up perimeters, and organized with the fire department and construction crews.

They worked in silence for the most part, some people giving Emma space and muttering under their breaths as they eyed her. She did her best to ignore them.

A few people came up and introduced themselves, like Marco, and others she spoke to as they came into proximity, trying to meet new townspeople. For the most part though she stayed with James, working next to him was calming and reassuring. She new he wasn't going to pay attention to the whispers and the gossip going around them.

In between bouts of silence they chatted or he hummed an unfamiliar melody.

Until James suddenly stopped what he was doing and cocked his head.

Emma turned to him, "What are you doing Jones?"

"It's just… the crickets. Do you hear them?"

Emma watched as everyone around them stopped to listen to the song the crickets were chirping like they've never heard it before. It reminded her of cool nights around a campfire with her friends and fellow soldiers. The music felt like the memory of laughter and friendship, of storytelling and shared experience. Emma looked at James, and wondered somewhere, in the distances of his mind, if the memory of their first night surrounding a campfire all those years ago was fighting to make itself free.

Marco broke the silence with a soft, "I don't remember the last time I heard them. The crickets chirping."

Emma saw as they all continued to listen in wonder and attempted to place the sensations she was feeling in a memory that they could not recall.

Things were changing.

[ _Deployment 2002_ ]

Emma and Killian had shared some fighting, a lot of curses, but mostly confusion and frustration on their first day together on the Tanzanian and Pride Land border. When Killian learned Emma had never heard of the Kingdom of Misthaven or their Navy, he realized just how far away from home he was.

He had tried to march away from her, thoughtlessly calling her useless in his fear that had manifested in unfair anger.

Emma hated that the harsh words of a stranger stung, and a part of her wanted to let him walk away, but she knew she shouldn't do that.

He was only scared, but she was still angry.

So she fought with him and cursed at him, and he at her, until they both calmed down.

"I think I know someone who can help you, but it's going to take a month to get to him."

"I don't want to wait a month before seeing my brother. I _need_ to find him." Emma had never felt the pangs of familial loyalty and love that Killian was obviously experiencing, but just because she didn't have it herself doesn't mean she shouldn't help Killian back to his brother.

"It's your best chance, Lieutenant Jones. I don't know another magician."

He took a deep, calming breath, "Which way is it?"

"What?"

"Which way are they? The magician? So I can start walking."

"Oh, that isn't going to work. You don't know this land or it's dangers. Let me guide you."

He shook his head, "I can't pay you."

"I didn't ask for payment, I'll do it for free."

He eyed her for a moment, uncertain about whether or not he should a strange girl in strange land. Especially someone who reminded him so much of himself.

Killian couldn't miss her intelligent eyes in her hunger paned face, the way her uniform kind of draped over her body, or the way she fought like she was losing time.

She reminded him too much of himself, and he didn't trust himself.

He needed his brother.

But still, he stuck out his hand, "Then you must be my best chance."

She reached out and took it, "I guess I am."

"It's a deal then."

They walked for several hours, stopping only for short breaks before setting up camp right before nightfall. Emma planned to take them to the coast and use a ship to go further south. It would be quicker.

They sat in silence as the night surrounded them, the fire blazing as Emma pulled out maps, books, and notes, and Killian sat in silence watching her work.

After several minutes Emma saw him look out at the grassland surrounding them and heard him whisper, "Crickets?"

"Uh, yeah."

In wonder he said lowly, "I've never heard them like this before. Usually there's one or two stuck on a ship and it's bloody obnoxious. But here, with all of them chirping like this, it's almost like music."

"Glad you're getting to experience this. Maybe it will change your life."

He looked at her over the campfire, his blue eyes brilliant over the blaze, and he gave his first real smile that day. It was beautiful.

"Maybe."

"Hey Mary Margaret," Emma greeted her new roommate, _her mother_ , as she walked in. Mary Margaret nodded at her and waved as she sipped her tea, "Crazy about that earthquake today, huh?" Again, Emma got the bare minimum response from her. She tried again, "I can't believe Henry made it all the way to the site of the collapse. Kid really gets around."

Mary Margaret only gave her a weak and absentminded, "Yeah."

Emma felt a little discouraged. Reasonably she knew the Mary Margaret had a rough day, going on a field trip to the hospital and losing Henry. She was probably down from the stress.

And, Emma realized, possibly the coma guy.

But Emma had gone her entire life without a mother and now that she found her, she wanted to talk to her. Mary Margaret didn't even know that it was her lost daughter who was standing before her. Emma wondered, when the curse broke would Mary Margaret be excited to see her? Or would twenty-eight years weigh too heavy between them? Could Emma even be someone's daughter? She had spent so many years being nothing.

She's trying for Henry, it's time to do the same for her mother.

And there's no time like the present.

Pushing her insecurities aside, Emma tried a new tactic.

She took a mug and set it down unnecessarily hard so it made a loud noise that startled Mary Margaret.

A bit uncouth, but effective.

"Woops," she turned around to the still warm teapot on the stove and poured herself a cup. "But now that I have your attention, what's up with you? Upset over losing Henry earlier?"

"What? Oh no. I mean, I am, but it's Henry. If he's run away you two always seem to find each other."

For a moment pages of the storybook flashed across Emma's mind. Pages that read an oft vowed phrase by her parents, " _I will always find you."_

Apparently a family habit.

"Then what is it?"

"I just keep thinking about this patient in the hospital. He's been in a coma for years, and Dr. Whale said that no one has ever visited him. He's been alone all this time."

Emma frowned, she of course does not remember her three months spent in a coma after being caught in an IED blast, but she remembers the pure joy she felt when she woke up enough to realize that she wasn't alone.

Her friends, her fellow soldiers, had visited her often.

She made a quick decision.

"You hungry?"

Mary Margaret nodded slightly, a little off guard from the sudden change in topic. "I could eat."

"Good. Let's order take out from Granny's and take it to the hospital. We'll have a dinner date with coma patient."

"Really? Why? Why do you want to go to the hospital?"

Emma shrugged, "I know when I woke up from my coma I was so happy when I learned that I hadn't been alone that I cried."

Mary Margaret clearly wanted to know more, but before she could ask Emma threw her cell phone at her. "Order. I want a grilled cheese and onion rings, with a hot chocolate to go."

She should not be surprised. Emma should not be fucking surprised.

Really. Truly. Henry had told her. She should have prepared herself for this.

But she hadn't.

And now she is staring at her father.

In a hospital bed.

In a coma.

 _Hi dad_.

Her and Mary Margaret sat down in the spare chairs in the room, holding their styrofoam containers in their laps. They placed the third meal at the foot of the bed, planning to share it later.

On impulse they decided it would be rude to not bring the man anything to eat, even if he couldn't enjoy it.

They also thought it would be a little fun.

It was.

They ate their dinner in silence for a while, but when they finished they weren't in a hurry to go away.

"So," Emma was leaning back in her chair, one leg propped against the bed railing. "No one has claimed him this entire time?"

"That's what Dr. Whale said."

"How long has he been here?"

"I don't know. Whale only said that he had been here for as long as he could remember, and that he had always been his patient." Emma was getting really tired of the phrase, " _for as long as he/she/I could remember."_

"How old is Whale?"

"Not very, about our age."

"Then how could he always have been his patient if he's always been here? It's just like with you and Regina. Things can't have always been. People can't have always been, Mary Margaret. They age, they change, but you all are treating things, treating people, like they've been the same from the beginning of time. No wait, excuse me, from the _middle_ of time because you all can't seem to remember the beginning."

"That's not true."

"It's not, is it? Well then Mary Margaret, tell me something that has happened from the beginning." Her mother made to speak, her hand floating in the air as it pointed at Emma, but Emma spotted the glint in her eyes first and cut her off. "Something that doesn't involve me, or Henry."

Mary Margaret stopped then and leaned back, grasping at thoughts that she didn't have.

For Mary Margaret Blanchard there was no beginning. She had always been.

Emma leaned forward, her elbows on her knees with her hands clasped in front of her. "Start with something simple, like when you first started teaching."

Mary Margaret started shaking her head back-and-forth, back-and-forth. Slowly and in a small voice she said, "I don't remember."

"Okay, something easier. Where did you go to college? You had to go to be a teacher, right?"

She sat in silence, still shaking her head back-and-forth, back-and-forth. "How is this possible? How can I not know this?"

"Mary Margaret, look at me." Emma stared into green eyes so much like her own. She could see herself in her mother. Her green eyes. The set of her jaw. Her cheeks.

But she could also find herself in her father. The shape of her brow. Her hair color. The broadness of her shoulders.

"Mary Margaret, maybe it's time that you start taking Henry seriously."

"Maybe you're right."

"Excuse me, but visiting hours are over." The nurse that had knocked at the door startled both of them. They left quickly and quietly.

They didn't speak until they got back to the safety of the loft.

It was Mary Margaret who broke the silence, "Emma, what do we do? If Henry's right, and Regina is the Evil Queen, she runs this town. She has always run this town." Her hand came up to cover her mouth, "Oh my God, this can't be real. It's crazy. We're crazy."

Emma felt for her, she really did, but Mary Margaret was so _close_ to believing her and Henry that she couldn't let it slide. "Just because something sounds improbable doesn't make it impossible. Listen," She reached forward and grabbed Mary Margaret's hand, "how do you feel about what you've heard? Not what you think, but what you _feel_. The curse messes with your mind, but I don't think it can mess with your gut. So, how do you feel Mary Margaret?"

"I feel like this is… wrong. That my entire life has been wrong up until this moment. That believing you. Believing Henry, will be the first right thing I've done in a long time. But Emma, what do we do?"

"The purpose of the curse is to make everyone suffer, to make everyone alone. I have a theory that the curse is held together by emotional isolation. Have you noticed that no one is really friends with each other? They get along, but they never really see other outside of their daily routines. And people who should be together are separated. Like Granny and Ruby. They live together and they work together, but the curse has twisted their characters and personalities to the point that they might as well be alone."

"So what do we do?"

"We try to bring people together."

"How do we do that?"

"Honestly? I think the best way to do that is just by being kind. Regina didn't build this curse for people to be kind. She built it for them to be submissive and to not question or think about anything. I mean, none of you ever gave a second thought to the fact that Regina is the only mayor you've ever known. No one said a word to Archie about how he was violating client-patient confidentiality with Henry. And now that I have?" She waved her arms at Mary Margaret. "Look at you, having an existential crisis and believing in fairytales. And Archie! I literally heard Archie stand up to Regina about what she was making him do to Henry." She stopped her waving about with her arms and pointed at her roommate, "But what you need to do," Emma started ruffling around in her bag, "Is to go back to the hospital tomorrow morning and read to John Doe the Coma Guy." She was handing Mary Margaret the storybook, the only key to any of this.

"Why? Who is he?" By her face she already knew.

"He's Prince Charming."

"And I'm Snow White."

 _And I'm your daughter_. But Emma didn't tell her that.

"Well, I guess I better get my beauty sleep if I'm remeeting my true love tomorrow."

That night Mary Margaret dreamed of a war and a little girl.

 _Emma_.

An innocent life caught in the middle of decades old grief and anger.

 _Emma_.

She was giving birth, the blurryface of a man hovering above her, his features she just could not make out. His voice was muffled and she was crying and screaming.

She knew she had a daughter, a daughter she might never see.

 _Find us._

She never even got to hold her daughter.

 _Emma_.

She was gone.

 _I'm so sorry, baby._

Emma woke up that Saturday morning to find an extra set of clothing on the stairs that led to her bedroom. The note read, _Leaving for the hospital. Meet you at Granny's. Bet your tired of wearing the same outfit. I think these will fit you. XOXO MM_.

Four days. It has only been four days and Emma was so far in that she couldn't imagine getting out.

The shirt was tight on the shoulders, but Emma teared up looking at herself in the mirror.

She was wearing her mother's clothing.

She had stopped dreaming a long time ago of ever having the opportunity.

Four days have changed her entire life.

Henry lied to his mother about going to the arcade so he could have a late breakfast with Emma at Granny's and learn first hand how Mary Margaret's date with John Doe the Coma Patient went.

"She bought that you went to the arcade?"

He shrugged, "She believes what she wants."

Emma suspected that Regina didn't want to have to think about the possibility of her world starting to crumble around her.

She listened as Henry talked about his day. Her's had been largely monotonous. Graham had sent her on patrol alone earlier that morning while he and Jones took care of paperwork from the quake yesterday. When she got back James was gone, but he had left a bear claw for her on her desk and a note telling her that they planned to grab lunch as a group tomorrow.

She looked forward to it.

"She's here."

"We're just getting started, Henry. Try not to get your hopes up."

Mary Margaret breathlessly broke in, "He woke up."

Emma's "What?" was met with Henry's "I knew it."

"Well, he didn't wake up and start talking to me, but he grabbed my hand."

"He's remembering! He has to be!"

"What did the doctor say?"

"That I imagined it, but I know what happened. I'm not crazy. He grabbed my hand."

"We have to go back. You have to read to him again."

It was then that Emma's phone started to ring.

It was James.

"Helloooo Swan, I hope you had a peaceful morning with your lad because you are about to have a stressful afternoon."

"What's going on, Jones?"

"Some guy that's been in a coma forever has walked off."

 _Shit._


	6. You Found Me

"So what? He just walked out of the hospital?" Emma asked.

"It seems so, Deputy Swan." Whale was absolutely useless.

"Any idea what would have made this happen?"

"Yeah, let's just get into the head of a man who we've known as John Doe for years, with no information on him." Regina, being as hostile and full of snark as always.

Unfortunately, Emma wasn't in a mood to deal with it.

"I'm sorry, are you helpful? No? Then don't speak. Just because you're his emergency contact and found him doesn't make you useful." Just because Graham was apparently her whipping boy doesn't mean she was going to be too. Not when there was a life at stake.

"Deputy Swan, why don't you and Jones go look outside for any sign of him. I'll check the security tapes." _God damnit Graham_.

Emma and James took their leave.

"You don't happen to have any experience with tracking, do you?"

"No, Swan, unfortunately not. Besides, the woods around the hospital are popular walking grounds. Do you happen to?"

"I do, but it was just enough to survive. Some of my men were better at it than me, but for the most part we hired local trackers if we could."

 _Think, Emma, think_. John Doe was remembering. And if he was remembering he was going to try to find Snow White. But he can't find her in a town he doesn't know.

 _That's it!_

She could get him before Regina could.

 _Henry_.

Spinning around, Emma ran back inside with a confused James following her only to find Henry and Mary Margaret coming toward the exit.

Mary Margaret addressed her, "Emma, we were just coming to find you. We want to help."

Emma, however, ignored her and focused on Henry who she leaned down in front of. She had only one idea. "Henry, is there anywhere in this town that is like something from the Enchanted Forest? Something that might be important to Prince Charming and Snow White?" James was watching with interest from the side and in the back of her mind Emma realized that she hadn't heard him talk about Henry's curse idea. What does he think? That her son is crazy too?

"Uhmmmm," Henry was looking at the ground when his eyes lit up, "The troll bridge!" He was trying his best to be quiet, to not draw any attention from people, but he was too excited. "There's an old _toll_ bridge. Toll, troll. We have to try there!"

"Okay, good. You've done good kid." She wasn't so sure, but it was the closest thing they had.

"What are you all doing? I told you to look for clues." It was Graham, he was marching up to them with a look of disbelief on his face. Turning to Mary Margaret and Henry, "Are you all helping too?"

"Yes." They said in unison.

"Alright then. Seems my department is expanding."

James broke in then, "We're going to the old toll bridge, it isn't far."

"Why the toll bridge?"

James' eyes glanced briefly to Henry. Emma could see his hand twitching, wanting to reach for his ear, but for some reason, this time, he didn't let it come up to its nervous resting place. "It's a well known local landmark, if he's wandered off somewhere into the woods that's one of the places he'd be likely to go."

Graham nodded, "That's a fair point, and it's a good starting place. Once we get further away from the popular hiking trails around the hospital we should start to see some tells that he's gone that way. If not, we'll need to expand our search."

"Hey!" All four looked up to find Regina storming at them.

In a small voice Henry said, "Uh oh."

"Henry I told you to stay inside."

"But–"

" _Inside_." And turning to Emma she said, "Since I clearly can't keep you away from my son, I'm going to have to keep him from you. Enjoy your job, because that's all your getting _street rat_."

Emma knew that she shouldn't rise to Regina's anger, that Henry and the entire town needed her to stay calm and keep her if not complacent at least distantly hostile, but _fuck her_.

"Listen here la–"

"Madam Mayor, with all due respect, do _not_ speak to my deputy like that." _What?_ Emma had not expected Graham to step in to stand up for her, and she didn't know how to feel about it. She could have handled it, he didn't have to interfere… but she had lost her temper when Henry needed her so badly to keep herself together.

"What, sheriff?"

"I said don't speak to my deputy like. She is serving to protect and serve this city and she deserves respect for that, despite your best illegal attempts at discrediting her."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Mayor. The records you had published were illegally obtained. I can't prove it, but I know it. They were juvenile records, Regina."

"Oh," Regina leaned back on her hip, one hand flicked in the air. "I guess you better talk to Sydney Glass, the newspaper editor."

"We will."

"Yeah? Well right now you need to find our John Doe. Clock's ticking, _sheriff_." She stormed away, back inside the hospital. Back to Henry.

Emma turned and marched into the woods. It was the only thing she could do for Henry right now. She can't take him from Regina, and if she followed her in the hospital to confront her everything would just be made worse.

"Swan!" James was calling after her, she ignored him but he only kept calling after her, eventually grabbing her elbow to turn her around.

" _What_ Killian?" Whatever was on his tongue died as he stared at her in confusion. Emma snapped on unaware of her fumble, "I'm trying to do my job. Just let me go."

He shook his head slightly, as if to dispel some foggy dream, and told her, "The toll bridge is that way." He pointed after Graham.

"Oh, right. Let's go."

Graham turned out to be surprisingly good at tracking, though Emma really shouldn't be surprised since he's the huntsman and all. Mary Margaret too was not half bad, she found John Doe the Coma Patient in the river bed that ran underneath the toll bridge.

"You found me."

 _I will always find you_.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Graham and Mary Margaret hovered over him, asking him questions and checking for injuries, while James called in for medical personnel on his radio. Aside from being disoriented, there really wasn't any other obvious injuries on him.

Emma didn't know what to do other than watch.

"Can you tell us your name?"

"Uh… yeah… it's David."

Graham nodded, "Pleasure to meet you David, my name is Graham and this is Mary Margaret. We're going to take care of you until the paramedics arrive."

David laid with his head on Mary Margaret's lap, her hands stroking his face and running through his hair. To Emma, it looked like she couldn't stop herself.

And he could not stop looking at her.

Twenty-eight years is a long time to wait to see someone.

Emma glanced at James, he was also standing back as if he could tell that this was important moment for them, even if none of the people involved in this situation could pinpoint why.

Watching her parents reunite, despite the fact that they could not really remember each other in this moment, made Emma miss Killian terribly. It isn't about romance and how there was an ache in her chest without him. She's lived with that for nearly ten years now. No, she misses his friendship and companionship the most. She wanted to talk to him about what was going on, to tell him everything that had happened.

To tell him why she didn't go with him.

But how much of James is Killian?

When the curse is finally lifted, what will their reunion be like?

Will he even want to see her?

Would he want to see Henry once he realized her son is the reason she didn't go with him?

The boy she knew had been kind and gentle, shy and modest, but she didn't know the pirate. Emma could only hope that the boy she knew all those years ago was still there, underneath all the anger.

Deputy James Jones caught her looking at him and smiled. It was gentle and open.

She gave him a small one back.

—-

[ _Enchanted Forest Captain Killian Jones_ ]

Time passed for Captain Killian "Hook" Jones. A year went by, then another. A decade, then another, and another. His time in Neverland, researching, plotting, planning against that demon, the crocodile, Rumplestiltskin, kept him young. Over the years his trips to the Enchanted Forest had slowly aged him, but the passage of time hardly affected his appearance.

People whispered in the ports that he had sold his soul to a devil in exchange for youth.

In a way, he had. His soul for revenge. His youth for time to plan it.

Over the years and decade, Killian Jones would pull out an old portrait, a "photo," and gaze at his youthful face against another's. A young woman in a camouflaged hat with freckles splattered across her cheeks and nose that rested beneath emerald eyes that stared back at him from the photo. It was old now, nearly sixty years since it had been taken. The colors were faded and the edges of the portrait were torn, but the passage of time could not wipe away the happiness on their faces.

Nor the love just beneath the surface.

The day that photo had been taken the village they were staying in had had a festival. They danced and laughed and played games until tears ran down their cheeks.

Killian had said that he wished there was a way to capture the moments.

Emma pulled out something called a polaroid camera and asked a friend of hers to take two photos. One for him, one for her.

 _Emma_.

When he was younger he had dreamed of finding her again, of her meeting his brother, of telling her he loved her. Then Liam died, and losing her had truly set in. Hope went with Liam.

Goodness too.

He could do nothing without his brother.

He stopped fantasizing of ever meeting her again, but he could not stop his dreams.

He could never see her again. She was in another realm and another time.

It was impossible.

Until it wasn't.

Years passed, then decades, then a century. Once he surpassed the 100 year mark of surviving in Neverland a seed of hope planted itself in the back of his mind.

 _Emma_.

If he could survive another hundred years his timeline would catch up to hers, and all he would need to do was cross realms. He refused to entertain the thought at first, pushing it away for a few decades until talk of the Evil Queen caught his attention.

A curse, not unlike the one that had moved the Pride Lands centuries earlier, was being whispered of in the kingdom. A Dark Curse that would separate them from everyone they loved and knew. Rumor had it that they wouldn't even know themselves anymore.

Killian already forgot who he was, the only remnant he had of his past self was contained in that portrait.

But there were other whispers if you got close to Snow White's castle. Whispers of a baby that would be their salvation, their savior.

 _Savior_.

A memory tried to surface. One of an old man with a grey beard and knobby fingers who spoke of another child in another land.

When they found Rafiki to help them return Killian home, he had also told them about a savior in their kingdom. A young boy whose name was Simba, and as he told them this he looked at Emma with a particular interest.

" _All kingdoms need a savior from time to time, born to save them in their darkest times. I suspect, Emma, that you will learn more intimately about this in the future."_

They ended up brushing it off then, focused instead on helping him back to his brother.

" _I've told you about my brother. What about your family?"_

" _There isn't one to talk about. Never has been."_

Emma was an orphan who had never met her parents.

Snow White's child was going to grow up parentless.

It isn't possible.

Captain Killian "Hook" Jones, fearsome pirate and scrooge of the seven seas, broke into the royal's castle to ask them their child's name. With the prince's sword pressed to his neck he told them that he might know the unborn princess's future, or at least a part of it. He explained to them briefly how he had fallen into a time and realm portal and into the lap of a young woman.

He would tell them more if they would tell him her name.

With a sword pressed to his neck Killian Jones learned why Emma Swan never found her parents.

"Her name is Emma."

And a seed of hope began to grow. If he let the curse take him, and it moved him to Emma's realm, then when it broke he could find her.

Well, he supposed, she would actually find him.

He just had to wait.

His hope bloomed.

—

Back at the hospital they found Regina and Henry with a blonde haired woman who was nervously tugging on her necklace talking to Dr. Whale.

"Who is this?"

"This, sheriff, is David Nolan's wife, Kathryn. I found her. _She_ is the one who will be taking care of him." Regina glared past her police force to the small school teacher behind them.

Wife? Looking at Mary Margaret behind her, Emma saw shock and despair. "If your his wife how come you haven't come forward before? He's been lying here for years."

Kathryn nodded, "I understand your suspicion deputy, but you have to understand. The last time I saw my husband we had a fight. Our marriage was never easy. We had been trying to have a baby but that just made it worse, and he left. I thought this entire time that he was in Boston. That is, until Regina found me. I'm so happy that you found him. Now I get to bring him home."

Emma smiled at her, but it was empty. The point of the curse was to keep people separated and alone. Regina conveniently "finding" Kathryn just adds another obstacle.

One Emma was determined to overcome.

Mary Margaret stepped forward and held out her hand, "Well, I'm happy that we could help." Her voice was airy and tight, like she was trying not to cry. She turned away when Kathryn embraced her husband, but Emma could see the utter confusion both on his face and in his body. He did not automatically respond to her, and his eyes never left Mary Margaret as he hugged his wife back.

Mary Margaret didn't look back, instead she walked away. She threw over her shoulder, "I better go. I have homework to grade."

She had just started to believe Emma and Henry about the curse, will this make her change her mind?

She stared at Regina, Emma wanted to confront her. It was ridiculous to think that they would buy this. Kathryn's husband goes missing for years and no one recognizes him in the hospital? No one puts it in the newspaper? The town isn't large. He hasn't been missing. Regina has been hiding him and she needed a cover up now that he was out. Her bones must have been rattling with fear when he went missing from his bed. It was a sure sign that things weren't going her way and Kathryn was a way to compensate for it.

Regina must think she was an idiot and was comfortable enough in her curse that others wouldn't start suspecting.

Emma thought it was best not to make her question herself.

She looked down at Henry who slightly shook his head "no" at her.

She nodded back.

—

Mary Margaret wasn't at the loft when she got back. She tried to text her, and called her once, but all Emma got was radio silence.

The last message she sent her friend was, " _You don't have to go through this alone_ " before calling it quits and going to bed.

—-

She woke up the next morning to Mary Margaret in the kitchen, her things from Boston on their doorstep, and flowers on the counter.

Gesturing at the flowers, "What are these for?"

Mary Margaret turned red and her face looked ashamed. "I, um, I did something stupid last night."

Emma's stomach dropped but she kept her face passive, "What did you do?"

"You know how you sent that text message that said 'You don't have to do this alone' or something? Well, I did that. Just. Not the way you meant."

Emma understood her meaning, "Who are the flowers from?"

Mary Margaret dropped her light demeanor and laid her entire upper body on the counter in despair as she said, "Whale."

"Dr. Whale?"

Mary Margaret started shaking her head up and down fervently, "Yes. It was stupid and I feel guilty and I never should have done it. I was just so upset over David and angry at you because I believed you about the curse and I thought that if I could sleep with Whale all my problems would go away."

"And did they?" If Emma's life had played out uninterrupted by the Dark Curse this is not a conversation they would ever be having. She would never be giving her mother advice and comfort.

She hated Regina because of it.

"No. They didn't. And now I know you're right."

"How?"

"Emma, I feel so incredibly guilty over what I did. Why should I feel this bad? There's nothing wrong with a woman expressing her sexuality, unless the entire affair is wrong. And Emma, it felt wrong. Like it was dirty, like _I_ was dirty. And all I could think about, the only person I could see in my head the entire time, was David.

Emma, I believe you. Whale was wrong, and so is David and Kathryn."

"So what are you going to do?"

"You said that the curse is designed to take away our happy endings and to make us lonely, which means I need to do the exact opposite of what the curse wants. I need to spend time with David. _So_ , I've picked up more volunteer hours at the hospital."

Emma smiled at her, "Good. But remember, we can't let Regina know what we know."

"I know, and I thought of something that might help." Mary Margaret pulled out the storybook. "I haven't read all of it, but I noticed something," flipping it open she closed in on a lock. "Look familiar?" Emma shook her head no, "It's the same design as the lock on our door. It might be crazy, but I went ahead and called Marco to come change the locks and to add a deadbolt on the inside."

Emma thought she was going to vomit. Regina has had access to their apartment the entire time and she didn't realize it. "Good call." Reaching across her to Mary Margaret, she took the book and pulled out her cell phone. Emma planned to take a picture of every symbol in the whole book. This was not slipping by her again.

They passed the rest of the morning quietly, Emma reading through the book and Mary Margaret contently plotting to spend time with a married man.

They made quite the pair.

Emma realized that if Mary Margaret hadn't read all of the storybook then she doesn't know that she was her daughter. She thought that might be for the best.

There is only so much a person can believe, after all.

When Mary Margaret went to get ready in the bathroom she tore the ending pages out of the book. She didn't know what to do with them, but she knew she couldn't stomach a conversation about it with her mother who doesn't even remember having to let her go.

It turned out the be a smart choice.

Regina came knocking on their door, demanding Henry's book.

"It belongs to _my_ son and he needs it back." Emma didn't believe her, but she didn't argue and handed it over in silence. If Regina had the last few pages of the book she would learn the truth about Emma's purpose in Storybrooke. She decided to burn the pages rather than risk the Evil Queen getting her hands on them

Regina started to make another comment, and Emma relished slamming the door in her face before she could get it out.

She couldn't wait for Marco to arrive.

—-

Emma arrived at Granny's to find only James in the booth, "Graham ended up having a meeting with the mayor, but I promise that I'm more than enough company for the both of us."

"Yeah, you and your ego."

He barked a laugh at her, "Aye Swan, me and my ego. If it bothers you, me and my ego can take ourselves elsewhere."

She grinned at him, "I think I can handle the both of you."

They ordered their food, James fish and chips, and Emma grilled cheese and onion rings.

Through a mouthful of fish James garbled, "Crazy about that bloke David and his wife."

Emma could not help but laugh at the picture. Killian had been nothing but manners, insisting that his brother would murder him if he wasn't a perfect gentleman. She wondered if Killian would be ashamed of himself right now, or if he embraced his inner filth mongrel.

"'Convenient' I think is the word you're looking for."

"How do you mean?"

"Come on Jones. The man wakes up and suddenly he has a wife? That Regina just happened to find within hours of him missing? How come she couldn't find her years ago when he went missing?"

He was thoughtful for moment before saying, "I can't explain it Swan, but it's what happened. Just because something doesn't make sense doesn't mean it isn't true. It's what Henry's theory about the curse is, isn't it? That our lives here don't make sense if you dig to deep, so we must be cursed."

That's exactly the point, but he wasn't supposed to be using it against her.

This brought Emma to point she hadn't been sure of, what does James think about Henry's curse? "And what do you think about that, deputy Jones?"

"I think that Kathryn is David's wife."

"That isn't what I asked you."

"But it is, isn't it?"

"Okay then, what do you believe?"

"I believe… that Regina isn't as squeaky clean as she makes herself out to be."

"You're avoiding my question."

"I haven't really had the chance to ponder it."

"Haven't had the chance or refuse to?"

"I'm not sure."

Emma leaned forward and told him quietly, "Maybe you should figure it out."

He responded in coconspirator fashion, leaning dangerous close to her across the table top. "Maybe I'm just waiting for you to give me a push in the right direction."

She blinked at him as he gave themselves some space, asking for the check from Ruby.

"Now that I've asked your questions, I have one of my own. Who is Killian?"

"What?"

"Yesterday, when you stormed off after Regina told you she'd keep your boy from you. You called me Killian. Who is he?"

—

[ _Deployment 2002_ ]

Emma wanted to fight someone. She wanted to scream and roar until thunder clapped and threatened everything around her.

The test had been cruel and her most basic instincts wanted to retaliate.

She had to relive every horrible thing that had happened to her in her life.

Everything she refused to remember came to the surface in that cave.

The seemingly endless line of foster parents who had abused her.

The kids in school who saw her as a token of charity or piece of meat they could eat to vent their own problems.

Lily who sent her back into the system she spent years trying to get away from.

Ingrid who told her she was the only one who understood her. Who's love was on the condition that she hit Emma with a car.

Ingrid who she never stopped running from.

Neal who fed every trauma and fear of abandonment, leaving her alone and pregnant in prison for a crime she didn't commit.

Giving her son his best chance.

Not being his best chance.

The sacks of oranges and soap they used to beat her body with during training.

Her first dead comrade.

Then the second.

And third.

The starving children.

The war ravaged communities.

The bullet wounds.

She had to relive all of it to get a fucking amulet Killian needed for the portal to take him home.

Emma threw it at him as she stormed out of the cave. She should have let him do it. Let him take care of his own damn problem instead of insisting that it was her responsibility.

But even in her anger, she knew that she didn't mean that.

"Swan!" He chased after her, "Swan, hold on!" His hand grabbed her elbow, spinning her around. "What happened?"

"Let me go, Killian! I don't want to deal with you right now."

"Deal with me? What the bloody hell happened in there?"

She turned away from him and tried to leave him behind, but he moved to block her path.

"Emma!... Emma, talk to me." His hands were on her shoulders and suddenly it hit her.

Everything hit her.

All the bad that had happened.

All the bad that she just had to relive.

All the loneliness that has been her life.

All the people that never chased after her.

The fact that this boy, this Killian Jones, this kindred spirit, who has become her dearest friend, was the first person who has ever chased after her.

And that she knew he had to leave her behind.

She couldn't stop the overflowing emotions.

She started to cry and Killian pulled her into his arms. It was instinct, really, to hold someone while they cry. It's the thing to do.

But this meant so much more to both of them.

He didn't force her to talk, but he listened to what she had to say about the cave.

—

[ _Storybrooke 2011_ ]

Emma stared at the man across from her, she smiled softly and sadly at him. "He was someone that I knew a long time ago. He was my best friend and the first person who was really there for me. Not many people have done that for me. I guess in the moment you reminded me of him."

"Oh. Well, where is he now?" He was hitting the corner of his wallet against the table. Emma got the feeling that he was fishing for something.

She watched the man in front of her, his eyes the same brilliant blue, his nervous tick the same obvious tell, but Emma felt as though Killian Jones was far away. As if he on another side of a valley and she could only hear his echoes.

"He's gone."

He laid his wallet down, shame on his face. Was he jealous? "Oh." He stretched his hand out like he wanted to touch her, but after a moment of uncertainty he pulled it back. "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

 _I'll see you again, Killian_.


	7. Drunk and Full of Regret

Chapter Warning: In chapter 7 there is a discussion about consent. Specifically this chapter deals with the Graham-Regina situation.

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for your reviews, I really appreciate them!

Weeks began to pass in Storybrooke. Mary Margaret and Emma would have breakfast together at Granny's, one hoping to catch David, the other to catch Henry. Only Emma and Mary Margaret got to see each other often. Mary Margaret said that David didn't remember anything from his life here in Storybrooke, but that he had dreams about a fairytale world where he was prince, and she a princess. She didn't try to push David too hard, but rather gave him gentle hints and encouragement. That is, until the hospital told her not to come back.

Mary Margaret was upset, but she could wait.

He would be released eventually.

" _If we've waited nearly thirty years Emma, we can be patient for a little while longer."_

Emma and Henry started passing notes using Mary Margaret. He thought her idea to tear out the last few pages of the storybook and burn them was brilliant. She told him how brave he was and smart.

Both thought the curse was cracking.

They thought that David was the starting point and tried to focus on him, but that was easier said than done. Regina kept Henry under strict hours, befriended Kathryn Nolan, and loaded the station with work. Apparently, Winter storms are rough in Maine and needed careful preparation.

Henry also encouraged her to spend more time with James, hoping that their past together might help spark something in him.

Emma didn't disagree, but she was also uncomfortable.

James didn't know her, he didn't really know himself. If she tried to offer him anything beside friendship then she would be taking advantage of him. Unlike Mary Margaret and David, who were both cursed (even though one of them was aware of it), but they were still on fairly even footing. Emma had an unfair advantage and knowledge that James Jones doesn't.

And she just didn't feel right about it.

So as much as it killed her, as much as she wanted to tell him, to talk to him, to try something more with him, she hung back. She hugged her grief and her sadness to her body like an oversized coat, unable to let it go and find closure.

Henry didn't completely understand, but he understood consent enough to get that she couldn't pursue James Jones beyond trying to be his friend.

And she was his friend, they had lunch together and grumbled into their coffee early in the morning, making fun of Graham as he tumbled into the station.

And, eventually, they worried about Graham over hot chocolate in the evening.

David Nolan's homecoming was close to Christmas. Regina apparently had to stay late for meeting so Henry snuck out to go with Emma and James. They stand off to the side as Kathryn introduced him to various people. He looked lost among the sea of unknown faces.

"What's it called when a person can't remember things?" Henry asked.

"Amnesia." What is he getting at?

"Amnesia. I think it's preventing the curse from replacing his fairytale story with fake memories."

Huh. "That's a really good point, Henry."

James listened quietly as he always did when a conversation involved Operation Cobra. He was attentive but never involved himself with it, despite Henry's best efforts.

"We have to jog his memory by getting him and Ms. Blanchard together." Henry insisted.

"We've been trying that and she got banned from volunteering at the hospital, remember?"

"Yeah, but now he's free. We have to get them to bump into each other. We have to find out his schedule, planning an accidental meeting."

"Or we could just invite him for breakfast at Granny's on Sunday? Tell him that we'd like to treat him to a normal meal with people he recognizes?"

Henry nodded, "That works too."

David approached them then, "Hey. You're the ones who saved me, right?"

Emma blinked at him for a moment, "Oh, yeah. I guess."

"And you're the only ones I know here." He tried to joke.

Emma smiled at him, amnesia can be disheartening and disquieting. There are three months of her life that she can't recall. She has several surgery scars on her leg to prove it and scarring around her hairline and down her left arm to support it.

"You can hide with us, mate." Killian offered him.

"Fantastic."

A server came over and offered them appetizers, Henry watched as David pierced a cocktail weenie with a toothpick.

"So, you ever use a sword?" The kid has almost no subtlety.

"I'm sorry?" David stared at him incredulously, almost positive that he had heard wrong.

"A sword? I'm wanting to try this thing called LARPing where you pretend to be like a knight or something and fight with swords. Do you want to play with me? I mean, you don't have to but I thought it sounded fun and it would give you something to do…"

Emma took back her previous thought on subtlety and wanted to high five the kid instead.

David let out a wheezy laugh, "Yeah. You know what? That does sound fun."

"Great! Can we do it Wednesday after school? Mom usually has late meetings anyway."

They made their plans, which David seemed genuinely excited about and Jones wrangled an invite to attend.

Turning to Emma, David asked "Emma, you live with Mary Margaret right? You know if she's coming tonight?"

She had to guess that it had been three weeks since David and Mary Margaret had seen each other. He had told her that he had feelings for her, that he dreamed of them in a fairytale castle, married as Snow White and Prince Charming. Mary Margaret had been asked not to comeback shortly after that.

"No, she couldn't make it." They had decided that maybe a party with Kathryn present wasn't the best place for Mary Margaret and David to reconnect.

His face fell, "Oh."

Jones and Henry were still excitedly talking about sword fighting, so Emma took the opportunity to reach out to her father.

"Hey, David." She put her hand on his forearm in an attempt to be comforting. "Amnesia sucks." He gave a small smile. "It does, I know. I've been through it. If you need to talk about it, or just do something that distracts you from it, anything, let me give you my number."

"That would be great, Emma. Thank you so much." Then he was hugging her. She was hugging her father for the first time in her life and he had no idea. "It's nice to know that I'm not alone in this."

She turned her face away, allowing her hair to obscure it as she fought back an emotional wave. "It is."

They stood and they chatted for a few more minutes, but more and more people kept coming up to him and he was getting overwhelmed.

Emma wanted to kick the person who thought a party full of strangers was the best idea for a man who doesn't remember any of them, even though he thinks he should.

When the next person left she stepped in. "Go, David."

"What?"

"This is hard for you and you shouldn't have to put up with it right now." Emma insisted, "Go, get some fresh air. We'll cover for you."

After a moment's hesitation he said, "Thank you," and was gone.

Emma, Killian, and Henry spent the next forty minutes fielding questions and making up fake conversations with silly voices for party goers. Emma gave Dr. Whale her best frat dude voice, Henry gave Leroy a squeaky voice, and Jones gave Archie an impression of Mickey Mouse.

They only stopped for Kathryn when she asked if they had seen David.

They denied all culpability and had a blast for the next hour before everyone went home.

Emma saw David leaving their building when she got home.

"Hey David, whatcha doing?"

He was clearly unnerved by something. "Does everything ever seem wrong Emma, like nothing makes sense?"

To be fair, Emma felt that way when she woke up from her three month coma and couldn't remember how she got into the coma in the first place. She wasn't sure if now was the time to push him.

But she didn't disagree with him. "If something feels wrong David, maybe it is wrong."

David merely nodded in response and walked away.

In the loft she found Mary Margaret looking forlorn. "This is going to tear me apart Emma. He wants me. He has feelings for me, but he's too scared to leave Kathryn."

Emma quietly grabbed two tumbler glasses and pour them each a small glass of whiskey.

"We just have to have faith and believe, Mary Margaret."

They had their breakfast together on Wednesday. David and Mary Margaret tried, and failed, at not flirting in public. He walked her to her car.

It was off to the races, then.

It was just after the New Year that Graham had asked her to work night shift, something he had said she wouldn't have to do.

He told her that he was a volunteer at the animal shelter and they called him in, saying they were desperate for a hand that night and Jones had worked the last night shift.

Emma could taste the lie in the air, but while she moaned about it she still accepted his bearclaw of peace. David started working at the animal shelter after his release and he had told her that they had on-call staff in case of emergencies.

 _Staff_ , not volunteers.

Whatever Graham's business was, it wasn't hers' however.

Until, that is, she catches him sneaking out of the mayor's window on her night patrol.

"This is volunteering?"

"Plans changed. Regina needed me to–"

"Sleep with her?"

"No."

"Then why were you sneaking out the window?"

"Because…" He paused, defeat on his face. "She doesn't want Henry to know."

"You did this with Henry in the house?" Emma was angry, she was god damn angry. First of all, her son's manipulative mother, who hates her, was having an affair with the sheriff, her boss. Secondly, _Graham has no fucking clue that he's cursed and that Regina has his heart_. He can't fucking _consent_ to this.

"He's sleeping. He doesn't know."

"Oh my god, I wish I was Henry right now. This is disgusting." Emma had to break this fucking curse.

"I really do work in the animal shelter."

"Why are you still lying? I know you don't work in the shelter, I talked to David." She threw her keys at Graham and marched off. "You can finish my shift."

She stopped for a moment to ask him, "Who else knows about this?"

"No one."

"Yeah, well fuck both of you because I'm telling Jones."

She walked the rest of the way to his apartment, Graham slowly following her in the patrol car. She was angry.

She was angry at Graham because for hiding it.

But mostly, she was fucking _pissed_ at Reginia for doing this to him.

Unfortunately, Reginia isn't the one in front of her right now.

"Emma please stop. Don't tell James, please. This doesn't have to go any further."

She whirled around on him, yelling at him from the sidewalk as she marched down the street and Graham followed in the patrol car with the windows rolled down. "Oh, so you would rather keep lying? How is someone who is supposed to work for you, supposed to be able to rely on you for support, someone who might get injured _along side you_ in the line of duty, be able to trust you when you are fucking the woman has control over your position- our jobs? Either you tell Jones right now, or I will." This was unbelievable. Emma spent her entire military career having people gossip that she slept around to get her position, when the man in front of her is _actually fucking doing it_.

Could he agree to it? Maybe not, but the bitterness still bit her.

Emma stomped on in silence, ignoring Graham's pleas until they came to the door of James' apartment building. "Get out of the car Humbert or keeping driving." She turned around and after a few steps she heard the slam of the patrol car door behind her.

"I'm doing it." Graham muttered as he caught up to her on the stairs.

And man, was she glad he did because Jones was _angry_.

"The sheriff station is supposed to uphold the law, not protect Regina from it!"

"I'm not–"

" _Liar_. I've been wondering why nothing has been done. Why Regina hasn't been arrested for threatening Emma _in front of us._ "

"James, mate–"

" _She illegally obtained Emma's juvenile records, Graham!_ " His left arm was flung out at Emma, while he used his right hand to point at Graham. "And she published it! That's outright slander! And you did nothing!" His eyes flicked to Emma, " _We_ did nothing. I was following your lead, and apparently that was the wrong choice."

Graham's face fell, looking ashamed. "James, listen–"

"Our job is to serve and protect, but apparently all you've been doing is _serving_ the mayor. Bad form, mate." His eyes were lit like a blue flame. His voice never rose in volume, but somehow managed to convey more anger than any yell could ever hope for.

"James,"

"Get out. Get out of my apartment."

Graham made to speak, as if he wanted to try pleading or to explain himself, but he changed his mind, leaving Emma and James alone in the small apartment.

A small part of Emma felt guilty for not stepping in on Graham's behalf. There was so much of the situation that she didn't know about, like if Graham could even agree to the affair. She did know, however, that Regina was manipulative and controlling and that Graham, soft and gullible Graham, did not stand a chance against her.

A larger part of her was captivated by James, quiet and submissive James Jones, yelling at the sheriff, his boss. For a moment, Emma could see Killian coming to the surface.

The man the young naval lieutenant had become was standing before her, angry and unforgiving.

And he turned his eyes on her.

They softened immediately, "Are you okay, love?"

"Got any hot chocolate?"

"Aye, let me make some." He rummaged around in his kitchen while Emma plopped down onto the sofa. It was a horrible gray and brown plaid number with the springs worn out. She sunk into the faded and frayed cushions.

Almost like the couch had been constantly used since 1983.

Oh wait, it has.

James sank in next to her, handing her a the drink. "You okay?"

She took a long sip. Was she okay?

"I just…" Now that the first anger and shock had passed Emma knew what she was feeling. "It's like he's betrayed us. He's our boss, he's supposed to protect us and instead the mayor has her hand in his pocket." She knew she wasn't being completely fair to Graham, that the situation was more complicated than it appeared right now, but she was still hurt.

James settled in next to her, pushing himself back into the cushion. "Yeah." Then he asked, "What do we do tomorrow?"

"We go to work. Just because Graham can't be trusted with his job doesn't mean that we have to follow his steps."

"Aye, and we'll start after Regina. We'll take her down."

"No, there's no point. We can't take her head on, she has the upperhand."

"Then what do you suggest we do, Swan? You are the injured party here." He was being selfless, he was just as betrayed as she was but he was giving her the choice.

She pushed herself back into the sofa, attempting to make herself a nest with the afghan blanket James left on it. "When I first started in the military the guys in charge of my unit were terrible to say the least. We all got suspicious of their ideas and motives, so we started just questioning everything they did and told us to do. If they couldn't or wouldn't answer us we refused their orders. It kept them begrudgingly honest, or us alive if they refused to be truthful. I say we start doing the same thing with Graham."

"And how do we tell if he's lying?"

"I've got a bit of a superpower: I can tell when someone is lying."  
He blinked at her but didn't question her, "Alright, and if you're not around?"

"Trust your gut?"

"Yeah, well, my gut doesn't seem to be working."

"I don't think it's your gut that isn't working, but your mind. You gotta get out of your head more, Jones."

He took a sip of his hot chocolate, "Maybe."

They sat in that capacity for a while longer, Emma eyed the original NES that sat next to his television.

He must have noticed because he dragged himself out of the pit his decrepit couch created, turned it on, and pulled out two controllers. "I've got Mario, let's go."

It was 1AM and several deaths of Mario and Luigi later when Emma finally left his apartment. "Want me to walk you home?" The loft wasn't far, and she doubted that she'd get attacked in Storybrooke, but that doesn't mean she didn't want him to.

She told him yes.

She'd like that.

[ _Deployment 2002_ ]

It had been a long day. Emma and Killian had pushed themselves to walk nearly 20 miles to make it to the coast, and when they arrived it was only so Killian could get mad that they were about to get on a pirate ship.

"I'm in the _Navy_ , Emma. We kill pirates, not catch a ride with them."

"This is exactly why I didn't tell you who we were meeting. Listen, there's a lot more to piracy than you understand. Especially here, where their resources have been taken through colonialism."

Glaring at her he said, "My brother raised me to be a good man, and a good man does not get on a pirate ship."

"I think you're brother sounds like a dick. Look Killian, do you think I'm a good person?"

"You know I do."

"Yeah? Well watch this good person walk onto the deck of a pirate ship."

He stood steadfast on the docks for several minutes, watching as Emma greeted her friends.

"Killian! Come meet some people!" He cursed under his breath and begrudgingly came at her becking.

After introduction and the captain of the ship giving them lodging Emma told him, "They weren't always pirates, you know. Most of them were originally fishermen, but when they realized that their gains were going out, instead of into their country, and their families, they knew something had to change. Their families were starving, so were their villages. Besides, with Scar cracking down on fishing and merchant ships it is almost impossible to not do something in the Pride Lands that doesn't constitute piracy. They're good people, in their own way, and are just trying to help their families survive."

"He's their king and piracy is treason."

She gave him a sad smile, "I wish it were that simple."

They sat until nightfall discussing piracy and its variations and causes when they decided to go up to the deck.

Killian wanted to look at the stars.

He had been memorizing them every night, asking Emma to quiz him and try to trick him until he knew them by heart.

They were sitting up on the quarterdeck, using the side of the ship as a backrest, Emma and Killian spoke of the stars. As they talked their bodies got lazy. The careful distance that had been kept between them was disappearing. Killian's head was on her shoulder when he whispered, "It is impossible to be lost when you have the stars as a guide, Swan."

Killian had been doing well, only stopping at the constellation of Cygnus to ask, "I know the stories to most of the Greek names attached to your constellations, but I don't know the myth of Cygnus. I keep trying to picture a swan in my head, but I can't imagine where the story goes."

"If it helps, you're starting with the wrong image. The story of Cygnus begins with a man, not a bird." Their voices were quiet, as if both were afraid that too much noise would ruin the moment. The comfort they found in the other.

"You know it?"

In a really bad accent Emma replied, "Aye." Killian poorly stifled a laugh, but Emma's smile was short lived. "It's the only one I learned when I was a kid because I found out Cygnus meant swan in ancient Greek. It made me feel better, when I was 8, to think that maybe I belonged to the stars."

Killian sat up and turned to face her, looking very much like he had something to say.

Only he was too embarrassed to get it out, but Emma was only confused at the sudden loss of warmth.

He wanted to say something corny, something kind, maybe even loving. Instead he asked, "What's the story?"

Emma pulled her legs up to her chest, slightly rocking from side to side. "Well, there are several. My favorite though was about a man name Cygnus who lost his lover, Phaethon. He was so bereaved by his lost that the gods took pity on him and turned him into a swan to help relieve his pain, but it wasn't enough. Still Cygnus mourned his lost love, until he grew old and his feathers grayed. Apollo is the one who placed him among the stars."

"Why did Apollo do that?"

"I don't know. I never figured out why. I like to think he did it because it's a testament to Cygnus' devotion to his lover."

"A testament to be stuck in the sky for eternity?"

"It sounds weird, I know, but from the story it also sounds exactly like what Cygnus would have wanted. To be able to grieve Phaethon for eternity. Mourning someone is the next closest stage to that person being alive. It can be hard to let go of."

"Well Swan, that's bloody depressing."

"I know, but it was my favorite story. It's just…" Emma eyed the deck, running her hands over the grain in the wood and her head resting on her knees.

 _It's just that I wish someone could love me like that_.

Emma hated that something about Killian made her want to be honest. Made her want to be open.

"What is it?"

"This story used to give me hope, you know? Yeah, I know it's sad, whatever, but the fact someone could love like that?" He was closer now, she could make out his blue eyes in the starlight. They were wide and sad. "When I was a kid, I dreamed of being loved like that. Of someone wanting me like that. But now it's just another sad story."

"Emma that's…" He didn't understand. Killian had always had someone who loved him. His brother Liam, from all that Killian had told her, loves him and is most definitely freaking out as much as he is that they're apart.

He had someone looking for him. Emma's parents ran away from her, leaving her on the side of the highway in late Fall in Maine.

It was practically a death sentence for a newborn.

The moment they found themselves in felt pivotal, the words running through his mind so close to changing _something_. They could feel it in the air, buzzing around them, disrupting the blanket night had cast over them.

Whatever he was going to say died on his lips.

Emma thought he looked like he might kiss her instead.

She wanted him to.

She wanted to tell him that yes, she'd like that.

Rather than that, Killian muttered out words of comfort and Emma quickly went to bed. Leaving Killian to curse himself on the deck.

[ _Storybrooke 2011_ ]

Graham spent less time in the station the rest of the week, calling off of work for most of it.

Emma found him playing darts at Granny's a few days later, clearly having drunk too much as he slightly slurred, "Next round's on him," after hitting the deer in the bullseye. She was still mad, but that doesn't she mean should leave him here.

That is, until he threw a dart at her face.

"Emma! What can I get you?" Ruby called to her.

"Nothing."

She had just started taking a step further into the diner when he whirled around with a dart. It made a thud in the wood next to her head.

"What the hell? You could've hit me!"

"I never miss. You've been avoiding me, ever since you saw me–"

"Leaving the mayor? And yes, that is a euphemism. Let's get the story straight Graham. I'm the one who's been at work everyday this week, you're the one who's hiding."

She walked out of the diner in an attempt to leave his company, but he only followed her out to the street.

 _Throw a god damn dart at me_ _motherfucker._

"Look, I know why you're upset! I betrayed your's and James' trust. I know. I just… I need you to understand."

"Understand what, Graham?"

"I don't know. Maybe if I talk to you, then I'll be able to understand."

"If you need to talk about your problems, go see Archie. He's the therapist."

"You know that he belong to Regina, besides I want to talk to you."

Emma shook her head in disbelief. He was right, and she knew that she was at least a little wrong. "Then talk."

"You don't know what it's like with her. I don't feel anything! Can't you understand that?"

She didn't doubt that it's hard to feel when you don't have a heart.

"Look, I know you and Regina have your issues and… And I should have told you before you took the job."

Before _she_ took the job?

"And what about James? This affects him too."

"I should have told him a long time ago."

"Why hide it? We're all adults."

"Because I… I didn't want you to look at me the way you are now. The way James looked at me the other night. Like you can't trust me." His voice was getting thicker and more slurred with each passing minutes. His body swayed and stumbled, Emma stepped forward and draped his arm over her shoulder.

She sighed, "I want to trust you, Graham, but I can't. That doesn't mean I can't help you home." He kept mumbling about his relationship with Regina in between apologies as she walked him down the street. On their way they passed the station and Emma decided to leave James a treat for the morning. Besides, she told herself, they needed to talk to him sober in order to work through this mess.

Graham only lightly grumbled about being put in a jail cell, but Emma underestimated how strong he was in his current state. He grabbed ahold of the lapels on her red leather jacket and pulled her face down to his, forcing a kiss on her.

She took her left fist and jammed it into his crotch.

His eyes were wide as he curled in a fetal position.

He wheezed out, "I'm _sorry_. I just…"

"What? You what?"

"I need to feel something."

She told him as she kicked his cot, "Being drunk and full of regret isn't an excuse to use someone. I'm not a tool." When she slammed the jail door shut she said, "And don't ever fucking touch me again."

Emma arrived to work the next day to James standing in the middle of the station with his arms crossed, glaring at Graham in the cell who sat with his head in his hands. When Jones noticed her walk in he pulled her out into the hallway.

"Why is he here?"

Emma frowned, uncertain how much she should tell him. "I found him drunk at Granny's and tried to take him home, but the station was closer. Besides, at the time I thought it would be a good way to get him to talk to us, sober, instead of running away from us."

He raised an eyebrow at her, "But?"

"But now I think he's a bit of a loose canon. He's in desperate need of help, James. He's depressed and needs to know that he has friends who support him through this. Regina hasn't been good for him. You need to talk to him."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"Only me?"

Emma looked away then. She should put it aside, really, she should, but what Graham had done reminded her of what so many men have done to her in the military. They viewed her as an object, something to be used, something _for_ use.

Someone they could use to make their own life better.

He began to suspect her silence, "Emma, what happened?"

If she told him, will he think " _this is why women shouldn't be allowed here?"_ Emma wanted to kick herself for thinking that of him, but it was too common a belief for her to stop the thought.

She had to be honest.

It's the only way to gain progress.

"I found him at Granny's, he had been drinking. I was going to try to talk to him, get him to leave, you know? But before I could move two feet into the diner her threw a dart at my face."

"He what?"

"So I said fuck it and left, but he followed me telling me how he wanted to talk to me so that he could figure out what he didn't understand. He knows that there is a problem, but doesn't know what it is and wanted to use me to figure it out. He apologized, or kind of apologized, and said that he didn't want us to not trust him."

James grimaced at that.

"Anyway, I tried to walk him home, but then we made it to the station and I thought it would be kind of comical if you arrived this morning to find him in a jail cell, because, well, it is Graham and it is _kind of_ funny. Until it wasn't funny anymore when he grabbed my jacket and dragged me on to the cot with him. He kissed me and I hit him in the nuts. Then I left and now it's morning."

Jones' face became stone, there was brimstone in his eyes, but still he didn't talk. Emma didn't realize how upset she was until faced with James' indignation at Graham's actions, but she could feel her throat tighten. She should stop talking. She told the story, she was been honest. But this is Killian, even if it's James right now, and she couldn't keep up her walls with him. "It's just… he was trying to use me. He thought my body was an answer to his problems, like it was something free for him to use."

"Emma…" She was looking at her boots, eyeing the extra space that her left brace takes up in her left boot.

"You need to talk to him. He needs help. I'm… I'm going to go patrol the docks. You can call me when it's over."

She walked away, images of other men flitting through her head.

Emma watched the fishermen as they brought in their morning catch. She counted the fish with them and tried her best to recall the English words for the various boats and small ships. Having learned to sail on the East African coast she had ingrained the Swahili language in with sailing, so it was a good distraction and mental exercise trying to match up the English with Swahili. She was disappointed, as she was every time, that none of the small ships had sails. She longed for them, seeing them peak over Boston Harbor had been her favorite part of living in the city.

Emma never thought about quitting the department, but she did think about giving Graham a lecture. She made her unit sit through days of training that basically told them how to be decent human beings, reinforced it through practice and example. But this isn't her unit and Graham doesn't have a heart.

Frustrated, she left the docks and walked into town, eventually finding her way into Mr. Gold's pawnshop.

Gold's bell pulled her out of her thoughts as she was greeted by a broken windmill next to the front door of the shop.

"Miss Swan, what can I do for you today?"

"Nothing honestly, I just thought I'd look around your shop. You know, I've never really looked at what you had before. You sure do have a lot of stuff."

"Pawn shops usually do, Deputy." Emma smiled at that, she hadn't spent much time with Gold and it turned out that he's got some sass.

Emma turned back to her wanderings, passing over puppets, lamps, and musical instruments. Her eyes glazed over painting after painting, until finally settling on a model ship not unlike the historic ones found in Boston harbour. When she lived in Boston she used to walk the docks in the predawn light, trying to wrestle with the demons that followed her from the military. Her therapist suggested that she attempt art therapy while she meandered among the ships, so she did and she wasn't bad. It was frustrating, to say the least, nothing ever came out as close as she wanted, but it was rewarding.

The docks in Storybrooke were limited to the boats and small ships Emma had seen earlier, which weren't quite as a pleasurable to draw. She settled for drawing the horizon, but she couldn't help feeling like the pictures were never complete without a ship heading for the sunrise.

"Something caught your eye, Miss Swan?" In the quiet of her thoughts Gold's voice was like a clanging cymbal made out of trash can lids.

"What?" Emma paused for a moment, her eyes still trained on the beautiful coloring on the body of the ship. "Uh, yeah, actually. How much for this model ship?"

"It's not for sale."

"Oh." Emma's face fell at his response, turning to look at him she asked, "Are you sure?"

For a moment Gold's face twisted into a snarl, his teeth bared, before he attempted to smooth it down, but even then Emma could see evidence of it on his face. "Why, might I ask, do you want it?"

She paused, unwilling to answer, _trauma is nothing to be ashamed of_. Her therapist can kiss her ass. "When I lived in Boston I used to go to the docks and try to draw or paint the ships. My favorites were always the historic ones that looked like this." She had turned back to the ship, her hand lightly tracing the main sail. The more she admired it, the more she needed it. Emma hadn't realized how much she missed those quiet moments in the morning, just watching the ships bobbing in the docks.

"I wasn't aware you were an artist." Gold's expression had changed to one of slight amusement at the idea of Emma being an artist. She had to admit, it was a funny thought, but in the end it was for healing, something she hasn't had much chance of doing since coming to Storybrooke.

Her voice was quiet when she responded, "I'm not, it was for therapy."

"Therapy? Can't imagine you needing therapy." Emma wasn't sure, but she suspected he was making a joke.

"For trauma. I was a soldier." She watched him closely for his reaction. People respond in two ways to finding out that a person is a soldier, they praise you or they abuse you. She had kept it quiet so far, neither Graham nor James speaking about it. Emma wasn't ashamed, but she didn't need people asking her inappropriate questions.

Gold paused at that, his face became noticeably softer, "How long did you serve?"

"About nine years in the Army, give or take. Enlisted not too long after 9/11." Something passed over Gold's face then. Emma couldn't tell what, he looked away too quickly, but to her it almost looked like empathy. What did Gold know about war?

When he looked back at Emma his expression was subdued, "You know what Miss Swan, take the ship. I don't need it."

"Really? How much do you want for it?" Emma was surprised, but excited.

Gold was quiet for a moment before saying, "When you're ready, I'll just take a nice painting or drawing for the shop." He waved his hand at his wall full of artwork, "I clearly don't have enough," and he smile at her.

Emma hadn't expected to receive Gold's kindness and could feel the emotions bubbling in her chest and squeezing her throat, she had to clear it to respond. "Thank you, Mr. Gold. I appreciate it." She will never forget this moment.

He smiled and nodded as he carefully packed the ship into a box. "Here you are Deputy. Have a nice day."

"Thank you, Mr. Gold, you too."

She walked past the shutdown library on her way to drop the package at the loft. The thief that lived in the back of her head noticed that there weren't any security cameras around and that there were still books inside.

Emma decided that it would probably be worth a look later.

"He what?"

James was grim and somber, "He decided to resign his position, noting ill mental health as the reason. Emma, he said that he's been having dreams. Vivid dreams about hunting and deer and a wolf with two different colored eyes."

 _The wolf._ She recognized the description as belonging to the Huntsman's companion, a white wolf who raised him.

Was Graham waking up? She didn't know what to do. She also didn't know how to feel. Find him? Feel guilt? Leave him alone? Be elated?

She didn't know, and it scared her.

James pulled her from her reverie, "Emma. Storybrooke doesn't have a sheriff."

"Yes it does, you. You were his deputy the longest, this town belongs to you now sheriff."


	8. Desperate Souls

Chapter Warning: A character experiences a panic attack this chapter.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who is reviewing the story! I really appreciate it! I also did not realize that was getting rid of my line breaks, which must have made reading a little difficult. I've gone through and replaced the dashed lines that were supposed to be there with the horizontal line.

[ _The Neverland_ ]

Killian had never been so close to losing Liam in his life. They had been through storms, shipwrecks, and separations but Killian had never been afraid that his brother wouldn't make it. Liam was invincible. He was fierce and protective and brave and honorable. He was a hero. He was a monument whose shadow Killian stood in. When Killian tried to see the top of the monument, to see his brother, he was blinded by the sunlight that shone behind it.

His brother was a giant.

Until he wasn't.

"No! No! NO! Come on. Liam!" He yelled at him. He _told_ him not to trust the king. To listen to the boy _from_ the island, but Liam's faith in the king outweighed his faith in his brother.

" _More people die than necessary because they won't believe the locals."_

 _Go fuck yourself Emma._

His voice was breaking as he begged his brother to speak, to say anything. "Hey! Hey!" Killian kept shaking him, hoping that he'd wake so he could curse him, curse the king.

"Let's get you back to the ship." Can he carry him? He's never had to before. He recalled Emma carrying him across her shoulders. " _It's called a fireman's carry."_ Emma was so small, if she could carry him, then he could carry his brother.

Attempting to mimic Emma's movements from memory Killian hefted his brother up and across his shoulders.

"I tried to warn you." The boy sauntered through the brush, looking smug. "He'll die as soon as the poison reaches his heart."

The boy is from the Neverland, he's their best chance. "Please." It was a plead. It was a whisper. It was a cry. "He's my brother. He's all I have left."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have goaded him into it."

He had, hadn't he? He hadn't meant to. Oh god, he's killed his brother. "He's so stubborn. I didn't meant to. Can you help me?" Killian felt small and helpless, like the lost and vulnerable boy he still was. Liam had always protected him from too much.

"Please, can you help me?"

The boy sighed as if this was the last thing he wanted to do. "Well, I might not feel like it, but today's your lucky day. There is a way to stop him from dying."

"Tell me."

Killian felt his body being pulled apart. He couldn't feel Liam on top of him nor the ground beneath him, when suddenly all of those sensations came back as quickly as they had gone.

They stood in a different spot, transported by magic. "This spring… these waters are rich with the powers of the Neverland. It's what keeps this land and all on it so… young. If one was to drink directly from it, it could cure any ill."

But… I must warn you. All magic comes with a price, and that spring is no exception. Don't leave the island unless you're willing to pay for it."

Killian didn't care. He didn't care about a price. He cared about his brother. He couldn't lose him. Hurriedly, he sat Liam down to scoop water from the spring. "Whatever you want, it's yours."

Gingerly he gave Liam the water, _pleasepleaseplease_.

His eyes began to open, he barely croaked out "Brother?"

Liam's eyes shot opened, "Brother!"

They embraced, both excited to have more time with the other. The Jones brothers left the dreamshade behind, looking for the boy who they owed a price. Killian wanted to stay and find him, but Liam grew impatient when they could not find him and wanted to return to their kingdom to confront their king.

" _Pay for it."_ The boy had said.

Killian was just relieved to still have his brother.

They returned to their ship despite Killian's protests.

"How are you feeling?" He asked Liam in his cabin.

"Shipshape." Liam was watching himself in the mirror, making himself proper for his crew. Killian was boring holes into his back, anxiety riddling his body. What would he do without his brother? Emma had told him he was lucky to have family, but she had also warned him that it sounded like he relied on him too much.

Killian had brushed her off.

He shouldn't have because he was terrified- _What would I do without you?_

Liam sighed, "Killian… I should have listened to you."

Killian didn't care that he was right, "I'm just glad you survived."

" _Don't leave the island."_ Tickled in Killian's mind.

He shook it off.

He shouldn't have.

"What now, brother?"

"We reveal the king's cowardice." Liam told him with conviction.

An image of Emma throwing her head back laughing flashed across Killian's eyes. She had been laughing at a storing he was telling about Liam. " _Your brother seriously sounds like a self-righteous asshat, dude."_

What would she say to Liam now? The girl who was so much like them? Thrown away, abandoned, but alone.

So alone from the start.

Killian had never really been alone.

"Well, let's hope the realm sides with us." Was the only response Killian could muster.

"Oh, they will. To fight battles with unholy weapons is, as you say, bad form."

Killian reached for Liam's collar, straightening it as he said, "Aye. I will follow you to the ends of the earth, brother." And he meant it, he couldn't be alone.

Liam moved to embrace him when the call came down to prepare for landing in their realm.

Instead of embracing him, Liam collapsed into him.

"Liam? Liam? Liam! No! Liam!" Killian was cradling his brother against his chest, attempting to untie his cravat. "Help!"

But it was too late.

His brother was dead in his arms.

The monument became a ruin.

After the crying passed, Killian felt empty. He held Liam in his arms until the crew plied him from his embrace. He didn't fight them, but there was something simmering in him beneath the surface. He was aware that Liam was gone, that he was giving orders for his funeral, but he could feel none of it but that slow, burning stew. Those hours meant nothing until he heard the splash of his brother's body hitting the water and a crewman was handing him Liam's sextant. "This belongs to you now, captain."

 _You will never leave my side, brother_.

The simmer boiled over and he felt pure rage.

"We are sworn to serve the king and the realm. They sent us to retrieve an unthinkable poison, one that killed our dear captain!" _Liam_. "Never again shall anyone set sail to that cursed land! And never again shall we take such orders… serving the king, fighting his wars!" Emma again flashed in his mind. "That is the way of dishonor! And all you who disagree, flee now or walk the bloody plank! For those who stay will be free men, and I will be your captain. We'll sail under the crimson flag and we'll give our enemies no quarter. We'll take what we please! And we'll live by our own rules… for that is the best form of all!"

Down with the king, up with the jolly.

"Long live captain Jones!"

" _This belongs to you now, captain_."

* * *

[ _Storybrooke_ ]

Graham had given them the rest of the day to prepare for Regina before telling her that night of his resignation.

Emma had expected Regina to call and berate her, to blame her for Graham leaving the force, but instead the phones were silent that night and no one came knocking on her door. Even James remained undisturbed.

The calm continued. James was uncertain of becoming sheriff and had insisted that they give Graham the allotted two weeks before he was automatically promoted to sheriff.

Emma thought he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And it did when the two weeks were up.

When they arrived at the station two weeks later James threw his keys onto what was Graham's desk and picked up the sheriff badge. Emma watched him fumble to put it on with one hand and frowned when she realized that it was difficult for him. Their deputy badges were made to go onto a belt where they slipped on.

Just when James seemed to have figured it out and was about to put it on, Regina greeted them with a, "Oh, I'm sorry. That's not for you."

"It's been two weeks– promotion is automatic." Emma reminded her.

"Unless the mayor appoints someone else within the time period, which I'm doing today."

James stayed silent, clutching his badge. Emma asked her, "So, who's it going to be?"

"After due reflection– Sidney Glass." She was proud, gloating at usurping Killian's right.

James cut in, "Sidney from the newspaper? How does that even make sense?"

"Well, he's covered the Sheriff's Office for as long as anyone can remember."

"That doesn't make the man qualified, Madam Mayor." James insisted.

Emma narrowed her eyes, "And he'll do whatever you want him to. You just cannot stand the fact that things have been getting better around here."

"Better? Are you referring to Graham's resignation as 'better'? He is ill Miss Swan."

"No."

James stood beside her, "I believe you're taking Emma's words out of context."

Regina turned to James, "Graham is a good man, Jones. He made this town safe, and forgive me for saying it, but you have not earned the right to wear his badge."

"I have been Graham's deputy for years, Madam Mayor. If anyone has 'earned' this job, it is me."

"You were nothing but a mistake in the system." Emma bristled at her words, the insult raising her ire. But was it true? Was Killian's position in the curse a mistake?

"No, Graham knew exactly what he was doing. He freed this office from your leash. You're not getting it back."

Reaching forward and plucking the badge from James' hand, Regina said, "Actually, I just did. You're both fired."

* * *

Mary Margaret came home to find James and Emma taking apart her toaster.

"Something wrong with the toaster?"

James bites out an angry "No."

Emma tells her, "It wasn't when we started. Pretty sure it is now. Just needed to hit something." This was accompanied by James cursing at the butter knife he had jammed into it.

"What's going on?"

"Regina fired us so she could put her own puppets in the Sheriff's Office." Emma bit out at her.

"And it's our bloody job!"

Mary Margaret blinked at them in silence, slowing sitting down on a barstool. "What happened?"

"I don't know," James sighed. "I just know I want it back."

"There must be a reason."

Emma deflated next to James, "Maybe I just want to beat her." It's been months in Storybrooke and she's only made minor progress on the curse. She found her parents, her son, and Killian, but aside from Henry it isn't really _them_.

And it wasn't enough. It felt like her life was on hold and she was ready to press the 'play' button.

A knocking came from the door then and upon opening it Emma found Mr. Gold standing there with a large binder under his arm.

"Good evening, Miss Swan. Sorry for the intrusion. There's something I'd like to discuss with you." And spying James and Mary Margaret peering at them behind her he said, " _Alone_."

"We'll let you two talk." Mary Margaret said, and grabbing a narrow-eyed and suspicious looking James and the toaster they moved upstairs.

"Come on in."

"Thank you. I, uh… heard about what happened. Such an injustice."

Emma made a non committal response before saying, "Shouldn't James be down here too? He was also hurt by the 'injustice.'" Now that she thought about it, this is the first time Emma has seen Gold and James even be in the same room. Did they avoid each other as a holdover from pre-curse days? Or, Emma suspected, was Gold really cursed at all?

Gold sneered, "Yes. I suppose you're right. But I was thinking more of yourself, dearie."

"And I'm thinking of my team, which is James and I. If you want this conversation to continue he needs to come downstairs."

Gold tapped his cane against the ground and begrudgingly told Emma that she was right.

They starred in silence until Emma asked, "Well? Don't you think you should invite him down? You are the one who requested this meeting."

He bared his teeth and called up, "Mister Jones, you should be a part of this conversation." Upon James coming downstairs he continued, "I was just telling Miss Swan here what an injustice it is for Regina to fire her."

Petulantly James responded, ignoring Gold's minor dig, "Yeah, well, what's done is done."

"Spoken like a true fighter."

"Don't know what chance we have. She's the mayor, and well…"

Pointing at James and smiling with gratification Gold said, "And you're you." Swinging his arm around to point at Emma, "But she isn't. Emma is the first person in this town to stand up to the mayor and she's the one who can beat her."

Emma leaned against the counter, eyeing Gold suspiciously as she felt James stare at her. "Alright, we'll play along. What do you have in mind?" She didn't trust Gold, but you can't counter someone's actions if you can't predict them.

And Gold was the kind of person you wanted to be on your toes for.

She made a mental note to study him more.

Turning to Emma, effectively blocking James out of the conversation, Gold told her, "Miss Swan, two people with a common goal can accomplish many things. Two people with a common enemy can accomplish even more. How would you like a benefactor?"

"A benefactor?" Emma's gut turned to ice. Benefactors mean someone having influence over you, and this town didn't need their police force on a leash to a master.

Gold gestured at the table with his arm that held the binder, "You mind? I want to show the town charter."

"The town charter?"

"It is really quite shocking how few people study the town charter. It's quite comprehensive. And the mayor's authority? Well, maybe she's not as powerful as she seems."

"What do you mean?"

"The mayor can appoint a candidate, but if another person wants the position then there must be an election. It's all here in the charter."

James stayed oddly quiet at these revelations. Giving him an odd look Emma said, "So if James challenges Sidney then there will be an election." Turning towards him, "You'd win, you know that?"

His response was to nod somberly.

"Well, actually, my offer of help only applies to you Miss Swan." Gold looked on with gratification as James straightened.

"Um. Thank you, Mr. Gold, for your help. Can we hold onto your binder and get back to you?"

"Absolutely. I'm afraid I've taken enough of your time. Call me with your answer this evening. But dearies, tick tock."

 _Tick tock_. Fucking crocodile.

When Gold left Emma turned to James, "We don't need him, Jones. You can win without his patronage."

"Emma, I can't win. Gold hates me and he has too much power over people. He could stop the entire town from voting for me."

"And let Sidney win? Would he really trade you for Regina's puppet?"

"I don't know, but I wouldn't put it past him. But you? Emma he's behind you, for whatever reason. Even if you don't accept his help, he won't block you from winning. And we need to win. We can't let her control the station."

Emma shook her head, "That's not fair, and it's not right. You've earned that position, Jones."

"And so have you. You've got ten years of military training, Emma. You can do this."

 _And you have two hundred years of captaining_ she wanted to yell back.

Emma shook her head, "The military is not the same thing as running a sheriff's station. Why are you pushing so hard?"

"Because… I don't want to do this."

"What?"

"I mean. I want to be sheriff, but I don't want to do it alone. I heard you earlier, when you said that we're a team. That you and I are a team and insisted that I be included. That… meant a lot Emma and if we're a team, I want to be a teammates on the same playing field. I don't want to be your boss."

"What are you saying?"

He was staring at her, his eyes trying to tell her more than his words could. "That if I run for sheriff, I want you to run with me as my co-sheriff."

"Can we do that?"

"As long as the charter doesn't say we can't."

* * *

Regina's voice carried down the stairs of the town City Hall as Emma and James ran through the doors, shoving their way through the gathered crowd, "Everyone deserves to feel safe in their own homes. That's why Sidney Glass is my choice for post of sheriff. This man has put the needs of Storybrooke above his own for as long as anyone can remember as chief editor of the Storybrooke Daily Mirror. Please welcome your new sheriff!"

"Hang on a second!" Emma over the crowd.

"Oh, Miss Swan, Mister Jones, this is not appropriate."

"The only thing not appropriate is this ceremony." Emma snapped, gesturing at Regina and speaking to the crowd of reporters and civilians, "She does not have the power to appoint him."

"The town charter clearly states that the mayor shall appoint–"

"A candidate." James interrupted, "You could appoint a candidate. It calls for an election."

"The term 'candidate' is applied loosely."

"No, it's not. It requires a vote." James asserted.

Emma continued for him, "And guess what, Madam Mayor? We're running."

"Against each other? That will make this easier for Sidney, then. Thank you."

"For me?" Sidney said, wide eyed and confused.

Regina gave him a withering look and he said, "For me. Yes, thank you."

"No. As running charter says nothing against co-sheriffs."

For a minute it appeared as if Regina would break her own teeth by hard she had clenched them. "Fine. I guess we'll learn a little bit about the will of the people and how they feel about having two sheriffs."

"I guess we will."

"Good luck sounding coherent on the debate stand, trying to read each other's minds. I'm sure you'll sound very prepared when–"

The rest of Regina's negativity was cut short by an explosion, setting fire to the inside of the building.

Emma and James immediately went into action, calling orders over the crowd and clearing paths for people to exit the building. Regina and Sidney, meanwhile, had frozen in the attack, both uncertain what to do. With no help from them, Emma and James safely and effectively cleared the building and saw to the wounded few who had been downstairs.

Outside, reporters tried to crowd them, but neither Emma nor James were interested in an interview. Rather, they focused on the emergency crews and tended to the persons who had been inside of the building.

None of them saw anything.

None of them new of anyone who would blow up City Hall.

Walking past Henry excitedly talking to a firefighter Emma heard, "Did they really rescue all those people?"

A moment later and Mary Margaret was asking them the same question, but this time Henry had an answer. "They really did! The fireman said it. He saw it!"

Ruby came up to them then, "You guys are heros."

People have always called soldiers heroes, shook their hands, and thanked them for their service.

Emma has never figured out how to respond to those people.

And, apparently, James Jones did not know how to either because he also awkwardly smiled and changed the subject.

Mary Margaret unfortunately had other ideas, "We should see if they have a picture of the rescue."

Granny interjected, "We could make campaign posters."

Archie joined in, "Oh! People would love that! That's a great idea. Wait, so…" Thankfully, they were so excited by their ideas and prospects (Henry was jumping ecstatically among them) that the group wandered away from them to gain new volunteers and to begin the campaign for sheriff.

Emma and James watched them walk past the pile of debris and both saw the movement of fabric among the rubble.

Jones moved to clear the area and Emma ran to her car to grab her emergency crime scene kit.

In the end they found that the cloth stunk.

They just didn't know the smell.

That is, until they did some research.

And it pointed to Gold.

"Lanolin!" James yelled, storming through Gold's door.

"Excuse you?"

"Lanolin. Commonly used in antique shops for waterproofing." Emma explained.

"That is correct. It's why sheep wool is so effective."

"You set the fire."

"That's quite the accusation. There's some construction work at City Hall at the moment. There's loads of flammable solvents used in construction."

Lies and they knew it. "Why did you do it?"

" _If_ I did it, that would be because you cannot win without something big. Something like, uh… Oh, I don't know. Being the hero in a fire?"

"How could you even know that we'd be there at the right time?"

"Maybe Regina's not the only one with eyes and ears in this town. Or maybe… I'm just intuitive– were I involved."

"We could have frozen or panicked like the rest of them."

"Jones? Possibly. But you–" pointing at Emma with his cane, "You have had the proper reaction beat into you."

Emma narrowed her eyes at him. She did not appreciate how close to the truth he was.

"We can't go along with this." She insisted.

"You just did. This is just the price of the election, Miss Swan."

"A price we aren't willing to pay. Find other suckers."

"Okay, go ahead–expose me. But if you do, just think about what you'll be exposing and what you'll be walking away from." Gold called after them when they started towards the door, "Oh, yes. And, um… Who you'll be disappointing."

On the sidewalk they glared at each other and Emma ground out, "We're doing it."

James nodded, "Tomorrow before the debate starts. Everyone will be gathered."

"Good. We do it ourselves and with our own words."

"Should we prepare?"

Emma paused, then shook her head 'no.' "Maybe just talk to make sure that we're on the same page, but did you see us working together earlier? If we can work like that immediately, without hesitation, then we can do a debate with a guy who doesn't really know what he's doing."

"Granny's, then?"

"How about we just go back to the loft? We're going to get harassed at Granny's about today."

"Fair point." Motioning with his hand towards the direction of the loft, "After you."

Turns out, they did have similar ideas that could be summed up in three words: honesty, trust, and transparency. Emma and James mostly spent the night bantering back and forth.

Mary Margaret would later tease Emma to stop flirting with her coworker.

When Emma teased back about her and David though it was not so well received.

"He's putting up posters for Sidney. Said Kathryn is friends with Regina."

That hurt a bit. He and Emma weren't super close, but they were friends. He texted her about his amnesia when he got too stressed and they would occasionally chat over coffee in the morning about the animals in the shelter. She had never even heard him mention Sidney Glass, and he's voting for him?

If he had his memories, would he still think Sidney was the better candidate?

Now that she found them, even though they're cursed, Emma craved for her father to be rooting for her.

They both went to bed a little sad. Emma because David was rooting against her, Mary Margaret because her true love is miserably married to someone else.

* * *

Emma didn't sleep that night, and she knew that she should stay inside, that leaving the loft was a bad idea, and that going to the library was an even worse one.

But she wasn't making much progress on the curse and was getting impatient.

While the windows were boarded up with plywood, the doors were only locked, which was nothing to someone who used to steal frequently and slept in abandoned buildings.

Inside were hundreds of books, all apparently protected from age as if they were waiting for someone. The books should be covered with heavy dust and the room should smell with the stench of decaying paper, but instead the room was immaculate and almost impatient looking. The reading chairs pulled out as if they were waiting for something.

She thought about the storybook, more specifically about Rumplestiltskin, about Belle. Was the library waiting for her?

Emma perused the shelves, looking for titles about magic and curses. She hoped that there was something here, otherwise her best shot was to break into Gold's shop.

And she didn't not want to do that.

The library he may overlook or not even notice if something is missing, but his shop he is in everyday, living and breathing it.

It was the crocodile's swamp, after all.

Nothing came up about magic, but there was one book whose binding appeared to be awfully familiar.

Pulling it down off the shelf it weighed heavy in her arms and was heavier still when she saw the title, _Life in the Enchanted Forest_. Flipping it open a page folded out, popped up before her was a ship with a feathered sail appearing to fly on the waves. The first words were about the Brothers Jones.

Emma snapped the book shut, putting it in her bag, ready to get the Hell out of dodge and back to the loft.

There would be no attempt at sleep tonight.

She should have gone the fuck to sleep, but she had no regrets.

Rather than leave from her entrance point, Emma made for the back and came out into an alleyway, leaving away from the loft. If anyone was following her, they'd have to track her through town and the trails.

On the trial that encompasses the town she ran into Graham who was looking wild and out of breath.

"Did you see a wolf?"

"A what?" It was the first time Emma had seen him since he resigned. Did he know about the election? Based off of his current state, she would say he hasn't been paying much attention to town politics.

"A wolf. A white wolf, with two different eye colors."

"I… uh… no?"

He made to move past her, but Emma stopped him. "Graham." He didn't look at her. "Graham." She repeated. "Hey," shaking him a little, "look at me."

And he did. "I keep having dreams. Dreams about Mary Margaret and Regina and a wolf. _This_ wolf that I'm chasing. I need to find it. It knows everything."

A wolf? Emma thought back to the story of the Huntsman and remembered his companion, a wolf with two different colored eyes.

"I need to find it, Emma. I think it knows where my heart– There!" And he was sprinting past her. Turning after him, Emma saw Graham and the wolf running away.

"Fuck," she muttered, chasing after them.

The wolf took them off the path and into the woods. The overhanging trees had become so thick that moonlight could not filter through.

The only way they knew that they were headed in the right direction was the glowing of the wolf's one yellow eye in the darkness.

Emma and Graham lost it at the graveyard.

"Graham, you have got to tell me what's going on." Emma shifted her weight to the right side of her body, her left began to make itself known. The leg brace she was wearing was made for low impact, like walking. Emma had not expected that she'd need be chasing down a wolf tonight.

"It's just that– It's just that I've been having these dreams and Gold said–"

"Gold said what?" Emma knew that she should not interrupt him, but it had been one Hell of a night.

"He said that dreams are memories from another life, and I think he's right. I think Henry's right. That you're right." This is good, Emma had to remind herself, because right now Graham looked sick. He was pale and covered in sweat, deep purple bags hung underneath his eyes.

"Have you read the book?"

"No… It's just. When I kissed you it was like my world imploded and suddenly nothing made sense anymore. And I felt… Emma I felt so empty. I _am_ empty. My heart," His was was rubbing his chest, feeling the fake heart that beat underneath, "It's not where it should be."

Slowly Emma said, "Graham, you're right. Things are rotten here, but chasing a wolf through town in the middle of the night? That's not good. Regina has your heart, and if she thinks you're cracking then who knows what she'll do."

He nodded numbly, "Yeah." But his eyes strayed upward, "That symbol. I've dreamed of it."

"What–" Emma saw it. The symbol of the Evil Queen was looming over them on the crypt. Graham tried to go to it, but Emma blocked his path.

"I have to get in there, please–"

"Not tonight, Graham."

With fists clenched and a wild look of desperation in his eyes he asked, "Emma. Please. My heart."

"We don't know what we're getting into." She pleaded. "Go to Henry tomorrow and get the book. Read it. I'll review what I have. There might be a clue as to how we can get your heart back because there is no way in Hell we can just walk in there."

"I don't… I don't want to go home, Emma. I can't live like this anymore." There was such fear in his voice, was it of Regina? Himself? Emma understood what it was like to be afraid of your demons, whether they be of your own making or created by the traumas of life.

A sick feeling began to form in her stomach. How long can a person live without their heart? What are the ramifications?

Keeping Graham alive was more important than keeping safe. "Okay. Let's go inside."

The doors opened without a fuss, which caused a sense of urgency to rise in Emma. The ease with which they opened means that someone comes in here frequently.

And that someone is most definitely Regina.

Emma made certain to shut the door after they entered, encompassing them in darkness.

Emma gave a flashlight to Graham and used her cell phone's light herself. Graham started going for the walls, pulling at objects, looking for a secret entrance, but Emma thought otherwise. If the magic in Storybrooke is limited at most than it probably couldn't sustain secret parts of buildings. Regina can't hide whole extra rooms on the outside of a building, but maybe underneath. Emma turned her eyes to the large casket resting on a concrete structure. Crouching down, she shined her light on the crack where the concrete rise meets the floor, examining the shadows. She ignored the dull and aching pain that began to throb underneath her leg brace. Seeing nothing, but still suspicious, she walked around the room and held her hand to every crack, finding that they were all cold. Going back to the casket she placed her hand next to it on the ground and felt it.

Warm air.

"Graham. Come here and help me push."

With some force it began to glide easily across the floor to reveal a passageway beneath the crypt.

The hairs rose on the back of their necks and arms as they walked past the magical objects scattered about the room. Some of them were obviously trophies.

It was the same sick feeling Emma got when she knew she was in the lair of a warlord. An enemy against humanity.

Graham carelessly charged forward to a yellow curtain, which exposed a wall full of small, decorated boxes. Emma watched as he eyed each one before ultimately deciding on a box on the right hand side. He held up his hand and the box glowed a white light before it drew itself out of the wall to reveal a beating, red heart inside.

With purpose and determination Graham took his heart in his hand and stared at it.

"Graham. You have it. We need to go." He remained silent as they made their way out of the crypt, careful to put everything back as it was before they entered.

Still, he did not speak. And he did not talk when Emma took them into the cover of the forest.

He held his heart out to her, "Put it back."

"Graham, I–"

"You can do it. Please." In the darkness his eyes bore into hers, pleading with Emma.

"How do you know?"

"You're the savior. It has to be you." He pulled her hand out from her side and placed his heart in it.

In absolute blinding panic Emma slammed it against Graham's chest.

He fell to his knees at the sudden burst of _feeling everything_ , but he was alive.

Emma stood there fucking petrified as Graham wheezed on the ground and watched as the wolf came up to him, gently nudging its nose against his head.

It didn't take long for Graham to throw his arms around his old friend. He peered up at Emma and said, "Thank you."

"Where will you go?" Was the only thing Emma could say.

"Here. The forest." With purpose he added, "I'm the Huntsman. She can't find me here."

"You remember."

"And you know the truth. You have to win tomorrow, Emma. You are the key to breaking this curse. I'll be your eyes and ears in the forest. If I see anything, I'll text you. I'll call James, or Hook rather, and tell him that I decided to go backpacking on the Appalachian Trail for a few months. He'll find it strange, but it'll keep a missing persons report off of me."

Emma nodded as she listened to him, she was feeling rather numbed by the nights events. "I guess this is a 'see you later' then."

Graham's smile was a little sad, "I suppose so. Be careful."

"You too."

They only walked away from each other for a few feet before Graham called, "Emma," turning she looked at him. His face was obscured by the shadows and she could not make it out, "I'm sorry. For everything. From the fact that you were an innocent child to the kiss in the station. I'm sorry."

"Goodnight, Huntsman."

Emma didn't pay attention to where her feet took her. She could still feel the weight of Graham's heart in her hand, the feeling of its texture lingered on her skin. She was out of her body, watching her movements, but numb to them as her feet took her to James' door. It is only when her knuckles lightly grazed the hardwood that her soul snapped back into her body.

She was shaking. She wanted to cry. She wanted to fall into his arms and tell him everything.

Emma rapped on his door, but it didn't open. She was nearly out the front of his building when she heard the soft click of a lock and cracking open of a door.

"Emma?" His voice called quietly into the soft light.

Face to face with him and she couldn't say a word. She wanted him to believe, but she was so afraid that he wouldn't.

She only just found him. She couldn't lose him yet.

Not over this.

She started shaking again, it was too much. Everything was suddenly too much.

Oh God, when was the last time she took care of herself?

Her breathing quickened, her chest started hurting, and her legs gave out.

James rushed over to her, practically carrying her into his apartment. Emma's feet barely touched the ground as the muttered "imfineimfineimfine" in a mantra that most certainly declared that she was not fine.

She couldn't breathe, she couldn't fucking _breathe_. Her clothes were too tight. Oh god, her chest hurt. She had to take them _off_.

James didn't know what to do other than let Emma work her way through the attack. It terrified him to her like this. What does he do? What the fuck does he do?

He watched helplessly as Emma ripped off her jacket and shirt then began to pull at her bra. In her panic however she was unable to remove it and fell to her knees, putting her head against the floor and her hands continued to fight the offending garment. James sat down beside her and unclasped the bra. She shrugged out of it and threw it to the side, keeping herself in the fetal position with her head against the floor. James' hand hovered in the air, he wanted to rub it up and down her back but didn't want to risk upsetting her further by touching her bare back. Instead, he dragged the afghan off his couch and draped it over Emma's body. Only then did he begin to rub comforting circles on her back.

After about ten minutes she sat up with the blanket wrapped around her. Sniffling, Emma began to apologized for waking him up at 2 AM to have a panic attack and wanted to reassure him that she's fine to work.

James didn't did not allow her to apologize. "You have no reason to be sorry, love. And there is no reason to try to reassure me about your fitness for your job. You are human, Emma. You are so human. And you have been through more than most." His arm moved to hug her shoulder and Emma didn't stop herself from leaning into him nudging her forehead against his chin.

They sat like that for half an hour before Emma decided to leave. "I should go. You need sleep. I need sleep." She told him as they disentangled themselves from each other. She turned to grab her clothing, but stopped before she took it. The thought of putting on the tight clothes was a difficult one to swallow. She'd rather go home in the blanket.

James must have read her thoughts on her face. "Let me get you a shirt."

He handed her a black button up and turned around as she put it on. "Thank you," was her soft reply. She was embarrassed and couldn't look at him. James made to sat back on the floor next to her, but she stood up before he could join her. "I should go- get some sleep. You should too."

Her entire time in Storybrooke has been a story of missed connections and isolation. Her family is so close, but so far away from her. Killian, her sweet, loving, kind lieutenant, was gone, but sometimes Emma felt as if he was right there, beneath the surface. Looking at James now Emma saw in his face the concern that riddled it a decade ago when she came out of that cave.

She couldn't stop herself from hurtling her body into his.

The embrace lasted a matter of seconds before she pulled away and was out the door.

James' hand rested on his chest, where the echo of Emma's body remained.

Emotionally raw and exhausted Emma made it back to the loft around 4 in the morning.

She collapsed in a heap on her bed and slept until 6 AM.

* * *

[ _Iraq, 2006_ ]

"Alright shit heads, this should be a simple get in, get out." Their captain hissed at them before entering the compound. "Mason, you take point. Followed by Hicks, then Swan. I'll take the rear. The rest of you bastards fall in line."

At twenty-three years old Emma had been a lieutenant for two years after getting her BA in three. The day it happened she thought about Killian, and what he would say. Would he be proud of her? She had stood shoulder to shoulder with her best friend, Chase, as they both made the rank of officer. It had been a good day, a proud day for both of them.

Unfortunately, he died, bleeding to death in Emma's arms two months later. She had been covered in blood when she led what remained of their unit out of enemy clutches. When they made it back to base she cursed curse her captain and the men who interviewed them for knowingly sending them into a lion's den.

" _You goddamn bastards sent us on a suicide mission."_

Their captain, who had stayed behind, merely shrugged and told her to follow orders.

She told him to fuck himself.

There was no fire went they entered the compound in Iraq, instead they were greeted by silence.

"They must be in the back. Keep pushing." Came the order from behind.

"We should pull back and reassess the situation. There is probably an ambush waiting for us." Emma interjected.

The Kid was behind her, staring at her wide eyed, uncertain whether to follow the person he trusted or the one in charge. He was eighteen now after enlisting early at sixteen. Emma had done her best to keep him alive, both on the battlefield and stateside. On his very first deployment Chase died, and so did the Kid's parents. Emma had taken him back to her shitty little apartment, two years later and he's still with her in a two bedroom now. He's supposed to move out when they return, go live with his uncle.

"I said to keep fucking pushing."

"You're going to get us fucking killed."

"Move it," he demanded, shoving the men in front of him.

So they delved in, slowly and reluctantly they made progress into the darkness.

Lieutenant Swan was right, they should have turned around.

There were push plates waiting for them in the floor.

Mason became mist, Hicks was missing significant parts of himself, and along with Emma they were both thrown into a wall. Her left leg and arm a bleeding, mangled mess.

She was aware of none of this however, as she had lost consciousness upon impact.

She wouldn't regain it for three months.

When she did, the Kid was sitting next to her in an uncomfortable hospital chair and she was made captain.

It was supposed to take her a year to learn how to walk again, but at six months when she could stand comfortablely, the military demanded her return. They gave her a leg brace and said, "walk."

They needed her back in the grasslands of Tanzania.

* * *

[ _Storybrooke_ ]

"What's the news, Swan?" James greeted her behind the curtain at the city's theater. He had bags under his eyes, she wondered if he slept after she left him. Taking a closer look at her, "Are you okay?" Emma could hear Archie out front practicing his speech:

" _Citizens of Storybrooke. Uh, we welcome you to, uh…_ "

"I'm fine. I've dealt with worse and kept working the next day." And she was fine, really. While she hadn't slept last night she did get in a shower and put on a fresh face. "Just point me to the coffee and we can rock this." Emma couldn't think about Graham, or the curse, or the book she found last night, or her panic attack at James' door. She had to focus on the now.

They had to win this.

He raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't comment.

Suddenly a warm hand was in her's, "We're going to win, Emma." A calm, warm feeling spread through her at his voice. Like a balm, it began to relax her.

"How do you know?"

He smiled, "I wouldn't bet against you for the world." More lights began to turn on in the front. Dropping her hand, "Time to step up."

Mary Margaret met them at the podium with two bottles of water, beaming at them. "You guys got this." And giving them a quick hug each, she left to join the audience.

Archie began, "Unexpected circumstances brought us here, but we are faced with this decision. And now, we ask only that you listen with an open mind and to please vote your conscience. So, without further ado, I'd like to introduce your candidates– Sidney Glass and the team of James Jones and Emma Swan. _Swan_. Sounds like something your decorator might make you buy. Wow, crickets. Okay, uh… Mr. Glass, your opening statement."

Clearing his throat and sounding well rehearsed, Sidney said, "I just want to say, that if elected, I want to serve as a reflection of the best qualities of Storybrooke. Honesty, neighborliness, and strength. Thank you."

"Thank you, Mr. Glass. Miss Swan? Mr. Jones?"

Emma stepped up to speak first, "You guys all know that I have a troubled past thanks to the illegally obtained documents that were published by Mr. Glass, but you all have overlooked it. I appreciate that, whether it is because you thought I was worth a second chance or because of the whole hero thing yesterday. But here's the thing– the fire was a set up."

Jones was now by her side, "Mr. Gold approached us yesterday to offer his patronage. We did not accept nor sign an agreement."

"But that doesn't mean that Mr. Gold decided to stand back. He took matters into his own hands. We don't have definitive proof, only circumstantial evidence, but we are sure." Emma said.

"We considered coming forward last night, but thought it best to do it now before all of Storybrooke so that _we_ could tell the story and not someone else."

Standing shoulder to shoulder with Jones, Emma spoke "We couldn't let ourselves win with a lie. It was the truth or nothing for us."

Mr. Gold stood up from the front row and walked out of the room as eyes trailed behind him.

A beat of silence, then Archie continued the debate.

To everyone in the room, the debate felt like it was already over.

* * *

"Emma, James, you guys are a hero!" Henry exclaimed as he came running at her in Granny's. She and James had come to the diner to relax and wait out the results, her with a hot chocolate and him with a whiskey tumbler.

"What? It was staged, kid."

"Yeah, but you told the truth when you could have let the lie go. That's what heroes do. It's pretty amazing." He was beaming at her, "We can win this."

Regina and Sidney entered the diner then, "I thought I'd find you two here. With a drink. And my son."

"Here to card me, officer?" Jones joked.

Sidney smiled, "Well, not at all. In fact, I think I'll join you."

"Here? I don't know. I think they're setting up a back room for a victory party."

"Oh, well, you'll have to tell me what that's like."

What? _What?_ Both Emma and James thought they shot their foot at the debate, the feeling of elation began to overtake them.

"Congratulations… Sheriff Jones." Flirtatiously Regina told him, "You deserve it." She insisted on leaning over him and placing the badge over his chest, letting her hand linger a little longer than necessary. James' eyebrows shot up as he stared at Emma across the table. She glared back. Apparently, Regina still wanted her hand in the station's back pocket. And with reluctance Regina all but threw a badge at Emma, "And Sheriff Swan."

James gave Regina a small, insincere smile, "Thank you, Madam Mayor. Emma and I do deserve this."

"It was a very close vote, but people really seem to like the idea of having two sheriffs brave enough to stand up to Mr. Gold. But a word advice before I leave: You didn't pick a great friend in Mr. Gold, you did however choose a superlative enemy. Enjoy that. Come on Henry."

"But I want to enjoy the party!"

Regina smiled, and Emma thought she saw something malicious in her eyes. "That's alright Henry, you can stay and have fun then. The two sheriffs have to go to work now anyway." Glaring at Emma, "Time to go, Sheriff Swan."

"Wait! James! We're still going to meet after school right? David is picking me and we're going to the park."

Jones grinned down at Emma's son, "Aye lad, I'll be there."

* * *

At the station they were greeted by Gold, handing them two brand new name plates for their desks. "Congratulations, sheriffs."

"You do know that we're armed, right?" Emma asked.

"It's all part of the act, my dear. Political theater in an actual theater. I knew no one was going to vote for you unless we gave you some kind of extraordinary quality, and I'm afraid saving people during the press conference wasn't going to do that. We had to give you a higher form of bravery. They had to see you defy me– and you did that."

"There's no bloody way you planned that." James ground out.

"Everyone's afraid of Regina, but they're more afraid of me. By standing up to me, you won them over. It was the only way. And now, both of you owe me a favor."

"A favor," Emma began, "means that one party had to consent to the exchange of something. Neither of us," she said waving her hand between her and James, "agreed to anything with you. So technically, what you did was an act of malicious goodwill." Gold's face turned hard, the rage of a man unaccustomed to such treatment simmering underneath. "Besides, despite your insistence, there is no way you could have planned this. Sure, you could plot that it would have worked out this way, but there were too many variables to say that this all came out the way you wanted."

"Aye, I'd say there is a desperate soul in this room, but it doesn't belong to Sheriff Swan or I."

"We have no deal Gold and nothing to repay. If that's all you wanted, can we return to our work?" Emma's voice was cold, clearly cutting the conversation short.

Through gritted teeth Gold told them that no, he does not have anything else for them, and left the station.


	9. The Same Mistake

**CHAPTER NINE: The Same Mistake**

Graham had called James that night to congratulate him on the win and to tell him of his trip. James relayed the message to Emma the following morning, which turned into them spending that morning chatting about the AT trail, things they wanted to see, places they wanted to explore. James talked about his after school activity with Henry, and how he was getting to like David Nolan more and more.

"If you don't mind me asking, and if you do please just tell me to sod off, but what was it like? Having Henry in prison? Did they give you the care you needed?"

Emma's smile was rueful, "I was handcuffed to a bed. I was taken to a hospital yes, but I was handcuffed to a bed. When it was over they had to bandage my wrists because I ended up cutting them in the cuffs."

"Yes, I'm sure a pregnant and frightened teenager giving birth is a real threat."

She knew the safer option was to go along with his indignant reaction, but it had been a long two days and she was tired. And a little sad. Emma ended up at the docks that morning, quietly counting the waves for comfort.

"I was seventeen. He's the reason I'm here, not just in Storybrooke, but in the US. I had a chance to leave everything…" She's been wanting to tell James this for some time, hoping that it might spark something in him.

Staring into the blue eyes that have haunted her for a decade she said, "There was a boy… he was everything I never thought I deserved."

"Is this about Killian, the boy you've told me about before?"

She smiled sadly, "Yeah. He wanted me to go with him, to somewhere I couldn't come back from. And I wanted to... but I knew that one day, my son would start looking for me and unlike my parents, I wanted him to be able to find me." Of course, that story has changed somewhat. It turned out, her parents needed her to find them. If she had gone with Killian then, would she have still made her way to Storybrooke? How much of her life was fate? How much of it was hers?

The confession slipped out of Emma naturally, as it always had with Killian, even under a curse. And she needed him to know, she needed Killian, even the cursed Killian before, to know that it wasn't because she didn't love him, but because she couldn't leave her son.

"If this boy was so important to you, weren't you important to him? Why didn't Killian stay?" Emma didn't know what she expected James reaction to be to the thought of Killian leaving her, but the low tone of heartbreak wasn't it. He looked like a person who knew the ending of the story, but pointlessly hoped it would be different this time. And on some level, Emma supposed, James did know the ending. It was him, after all.

"We never talked about how we felt about each other, but I knew it was there, buzzing between us."

It was actually confirmed between them, but that's a story Emma would rather not relive.

"I would be lying if I said it didn't scare me and maybe that was part of my motivation. Plus, he was looking for his brother, Liam, and staying with me meant never seeing him again. They were each other's world, and me? I was nothing. I couldn't let him stay for nothing. I couldn't put him through that."

If he had stayed, would Liam still be alive? Would Liam have ended up safely in this world searching for his brother instead of on the shore of the cursed Neverland?

"And he left?"

"And he left."

"Did you love him?"

"I did."

"Did he love you?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"But you let him go for Henry. Does he know, does Henry know?"

"He knows enough, I made sure he knew that I never forgot about him."

She was tired of the conversation and sad from the topic. Emma felt her old heartache suffocating her, along with fresh grief for the friendship she lost ten years ago, as she recounted her reason for letting love walk away to the very man himself.

And that was the worst part: telling Killian the truth even though he wasn't really here to hear it. He was locked away behind fake memories. Instead, she was confessing to a man who could only feel the echoes of his heart.

Emma hoped all this pain would be worth it.

If it awoke something in him it would be.

James wanted to say something, she could see. His hand floated in the air, halfway to his nervous tick and halfway to offering comfort.

But Emma didn't want comfort from James.

She turned away, back to her desk before he could make a move and began fiddling with the ship Gold had given her. After looking at it closely for a while, suspicions rose in Emma that it was actually the Jolly Roger and upon comparison to the pictures in the book, she was at least certain that it was miniature copy, if not a cursed shrunken ship. So she brought it to the station in hopes that it would strike something in Jones.

It had not.

James was still sitting there, halfway between nervous and comfort, when Regina walked in with a, "What the Hell do you think you're doing?"

"I hope paperwork," Emma responded, picking up and dropping a folder on her desk as she did so.

Regina took the folder and threw it across the room.

"With Graham. First he resigned as sheriff and now he's run off to god knows where! And you! None of this happened until you got here."

"I don't believe I know what you are talking about."

"Oh? So, nothing's ever happened between you two? You forget, Miss Swan–I have eyes everywhere." Emma thought that if she really did have eyes everywhere then Regina wouldn't be here right now. She probably realized that she had a missing heart in her vault, and was scared and uncertain about what happened.

So she came for Emma.

"You mean the kiss that meant nothing." And was a violation of Emma's personal space, but she didn't feel the need to tack that on since Regina seemed the type to turn it back on her.

"Well, of course not. Because you're incapable of feeling anything for anyone. There's a reason you're alone, isn't there? Able to move at the drop of a hat without any consequences? It's because it is impossible for anyone to want you, isn't it? Because you are nothing, and you feel nothing."

Emma wanted to bite back, to maybe even beat the shit out Regina in that moment. But if Regina saw that she got a rise out of her then she'd win this. Instead, Emma went for humor. Tilting her head, and tapping a pen against her chin she said, "Are you sure you were never in the military? I swear, if you'd've put 'magot' in that tirade of your's I'd've thought you were my drill sergeant back in '01." Pointing her pen at Regina she joked, "You know what? You even have the haircut."

Emma saw the punch coming.

She was up and out of her chair in no time, pinning Regina's arm behind her back before stepping away, hands raised along with an eyebrow that said 'you sure about that?'

James moved quickly to stand between them, telling the mayor to leave.

She did, spitting over James' shoulder that Emma wasn't worth the trouble.

Emma shrugged, "Probably not." Had she ever been worth it?

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, Regina didn't ruffle my feathers. You though, you did." She told him, poking him in the shoulder as she went back to her desk.

"What?"

"Yeah. You did the same thing Graham did when he was still sheriff. You'd remain quiet until the threat was out of the room, then act like a big dog. In reality, you're too chicken shit to stand up to the mayor when standing up really counts. If I hadn't pushed it, and you, would you have tried to even fight her for this office?"

He stood silent.

"That's what I thought. If you won't stand up for your beliefs or your friends Jones, what are you willing to do?"

She didn't wait for an answer, rather Emma returned to her desk to continue her paperwork. "Hey, will you pick up that folder Regina threw?" Was the only thing she said when she sat at her desk.

In silence James collected the papers, in silence he placed them on her desk, and in silence he sat for the rest of the day.

He didn't break it when Emma popped her head into his, formerly Graham's, office before leaving to tell him: "Oh, before I go. You know how I said Regina had a similar haircut to my drill sergeant? Well, I lied. My drill sergeant did not have that haircut and was not a woman." Giving a grin that could rival the cheshire cat she said, "Did it purely to get her goat." And with a mock salute and a, "Later, Jones." she walked out of the station.

Emma didn't have a chance to see the affect of her words the following day as she had to almost immediately respond to a shoplifting call at the Dark Star Pharmacy. She walked in to Henry and Regina walking out, "Henry? What happened?"

"Miss Swan, must I remind you that genetics mean nothing. You're not his mother and it's all taken care of."

"I'm here because I'm sheriff."

"Oh, that's right. Go on," Regina motioned at two children standing at the counter, "Do your job. Take care of those miscreants."

"I'll take care of the _children_ , but uh, blood does mean something if the two people involved think it does." Regina made to reproach her and Emma cut her off while Henry smiled, "Have a good day kid." And dismissively she said, "You too, Madam Mayor," as she turned around. Emma heard the bell ring behind her as they left.

She ignored Mr. Clark in favor of the two children in front of her. They stared at her with hunger pained eyes Emma recognized all to well from staring at her own reflection when she was younger.

"Hi, my name is Emma. What's yours?"

Mr. Clark tried to answer, "There names are–"

"I didn't ask you."

The girl, the older of the two, answered then. "I'm Ava, this is my brother Nicholas."

"Hi Ava, Hi Nicholas. It's nice to meet you both. Do you guys want to get out of here?" They shook their heads 'yes' in unison. "Are you guys hungry?" They shook their heads 'no.' "Well, that's a shame because I am. I'll tell you what, I'll get you outta here but you gotta agree to eat with me at Granny's. You'll be doing me a huge favor. I can't eat by myself or I'll be so embarrassed, like I'm a freak or something. Can you do that for me?"

With the smallest of smiles their 'no' became a 'yes' and Emma radioed Jones that he needed to come take Mr. Clark's statement while she handled the perps.

"Ah Swan, did they give you some trouble? Should have called back up." He teased over the radio.

"No," she hissed, "they're starving children. I'm taking them to Granny's."

"Got it." Was the last message he sent before Emma corralled the kids in the car.

Turning around, she grinned at them. "Do you want me to run the siren? It'll be fun. You can intentionally watch me run a stop sign."

Ava's and Nicholas' small smiles turned into larger ones and then full on grins when Emma ran the stop sign with her sirens blaring.

"So," they were sitting across from her in the diner, their mouths full from the cheeseburger and fries that had been sitting in front of both of them, "siblings, right? Do you two want to tell me why you felt like you had to steal?" Silence permeated the booth. Emma took a long drink from her hot chocolate before setting it down. "Because when I was your age, which is about eleven if I had to guess, and I stole from convenience stores it was because I was starving and I didn't have an adult to take care of me. Now, were I to come across kids who are in a similar situation to what I had gone through I'd want to help them. You two catch my drift?" Ava and Nicholas simultaneously nodded in agreement. Leaning back she asked, "So, do you guys have something you want to tell me?"

Ava was the one to speak. Emma did not have siblings, but she would bet her money that Ava being the older sibling felt responsible for Nicholas. "We don't have any parents. Our mom died a few years ago, her name was Dory Zimmer. That's our last name too. We don't have a dad." Quick and to the point, the girl reminded Emma more and more of herself as child.

"Thank you for your honesty, Ava. Now, here's what is going to happen: I'm going to drive around and ask about your mother. Unfortunately, I don't have anyone to watch you right now and I can't leave you alone. This means I have to take you to school, if you're enrolled. Do you guys go to school?"

"Yeah, we do."

"Good. Then you know who Miss Blanchard is, right?"

They both shook their heads 'yes.'

"She is going to take you home with her. We're roommates, so I'm not abandoning you guys to Miss Blanchard. Do you want milkshakes to go?"

They smiled, "Yeah."

After school Emma came home to find Ava and Nicholas eating at the table.

"Did anyone have any idea about them?" She asked Mary Margaret

"No, none of us did."

"Ava and Nicholas Zimmer. They said their mother was a woman named Dory Zimmer. She died a few years ago. No one seems to know her or remember her."

Mary Margaret lowered her voice, "A few years ago or a curse ago?"

"Probably the latter."

"And the father?"

"There isn't one. At least one that they know."

"What about Social Services?"

Emma gave Mary Margaret a _look_.

"Emma…"

"I report them, I can't help them. They go into the system."

"The system that's supposed to help. They could go into it at least until the curse breaks."

"That's easy to say when you've never been in it. I know that system and was in it for fifteen years. Do you know what happens? They get thrown in homes where they are a meal ticket– nothing more. These families get paid for these kids and as soon as it gets to be too much work, they get tossed out and they start all over again."

"But they aren't all like that."

"All the ones I was in were."

"What? We're just going to adopt them?"

Emma didn't hesitate, "In a fucking heartbeat if it means I buy them more time."

"More time for what?" Mary Margaret wasn't against her, but Emma could see that she wasn't completely buying this plan.

"To find their father. They don't know him and he probably doesn't even know they exist. The curse tore families apart, this one is probably no different."

"And you think if he knows, he'll want them? What if his cursed persona can't stand the sight of them?"

"In my experience, the curse doesn't change a person's fundamental character. It's just buried underneath lies and garbage. And if they go into the system? They will be separated, Mary Margaret and it could takes years to get them back." That last statement caught her mother's agreement with the plan.

"What do we do right now?" Mary Margaret whispered as she watched the kids mixing ingredients together.

"Right now, we make them comfortable. I sent James to the records office to get their birth certificates."

"Does he know about your plan?"

"Yep. In the meantime, I'm going to look through my notes and pictures I took on my phone to see if I can spot their father. Let them play on my Super Nintendo when their done," Emma told Mary Margaret as she walked up the stairs.

Mary Margaret let out a very dazed and uncertain, "Oh– okay."

James did not have good news to report. Apparently, Regina had already pulled their birth certificates and contacted Social Services; and Henry walked in a few minutes later to report that the storybook listed them as having no parents and that their father abandoned them.

Emma smelled a rat. Regina wouldn't be so invested if this was her first encounter with them.

James and Emma were supposed to bring them to Boston tonight, which means they had very little time to reunite a family.

"Swan, what if he isn't even here?" James never commented on the curse idea, and no one spoke to him directly about it, but Emma could tell- he didn't pay a whole lot of mind to the things he heard. He just wanted to do his job.

"He is."

"How do you know?"

Henry cut in, "Cause no one leaves Storybrooke. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's just the way it is."

James glanced at Emma then pointed at her, "She came here."

Henry shook his head, "That's because she's special. Emma is the first stranger here– ever."

Emma walked away to give herself some space from the case, to try to think about it from a new angle.

Henry followed her, "Can you tell me about him?"

"I don't know anything yet."

"Not their father–Killian. I want to know more about him."

"Henry, now really isn't the time for this."

"I know… I just– I want to know _him_. If my dad wasn't so great, then maybe…I thought– maybe he'd want me."

"Oh, Henry." Emma pulled him into a hug. "I wish I had more answers for you, but it's been two hundred years for him."

He muffled into her, "I know, but I was just so happy that he wanted to join me and David but we haven't gotten to spend a lot of time together and I want a family."

Emma cupped her son's face, running her hand through his hair so she could see it better. "I know, and I promise Henry, we will be. I can't tell you what our family will look like, or who will be a part of it, but _we_ will be together and a family when this is over. I'll fight tooth and nail to see it happen."

He held her tighter and asked, "Do you have anything of his? Something so I can feel like I know Killian better?"

A memento. That's it! "You beautiful boy! You genius!" She kissed his cheek repeatedly. "Under my bed there's a camo duffle bag. You can look through it while I handle this." Emma ran upstairs, Henry on her heels, and Mary Margaret, Jones, Ava, and Nicholas watching curiously as they ran by.

Dragging out her old Army rucksack Emma opened it to expose various and multiple mementos, papers, and journals, including a black, worn leather jacket, a camo hat with 'SWAN' embroidered on the back, various small boxes that Henry first thought held jewelry, and a large, white as snow baby blanket with purple ribbon accents and the name 'EMMA' in the purple ribbon, woven through the fabric.

"Have at the bag, kid. There's some pictures in there of Killian and I." She told Henry as she ran downstairs. Coming down the stairs Emma said, "I want to show you guys something."

"What's that?" Nicholas asked.

"It's my baby blanket. It's something I've held onto my whole life. That's the only thing that I have from… from my parents. I've spent a lot of time with a lot of kids in your situation, and all of them–all of us–we held onto stuff. I want to find your father, but I need your help. Is there anything of his you've held onto?"

"I might have something. But if I give it you, you'll make sure we stay together, right?" Ava was looking for a promise and Emma knew how dangerous those were in this kind of situation.

She did not take it lightly when she said, "Right."

Ava pulled a compass on a chain from her pocket and handed it to Emma, "Our mom kept it. She said it was our dad's."

Emma felt the weight of the item in her hand. It was a symbol of their hopes, and their dreams.

"Thank you."

"Did you find them?"

"Who?"

"Your parents."

Emma chanced a glance at Mary Margaret before responding, "Not yet. But I'm going to find yours."

James tried to follow her out of the door, "What do you think your doing?" she asked.

"Going with you."

"No, you're not. I'm going to Gold's and he's much more likely to answer my questions without being distracted by the hostility that bounces between you two."

He stared at her, "Emma, we're partners. I'm going with you." He put on a mask of innocence then said, "I'm promise to be on my best behavior, love."

She glared at him, "Fine."

Gold was polishing one of his many lamps when they walked in. "Emma. How lovely to see you." Then with a sneer, "Jones."

Emma snapped her fingers at Gold, "Hey, arch nemesis stuff later. I've got questions."

Gold gave Emma an odd look and she was vaguely aware that she might have showed him a bit of her hand. At least he doesn't like Regina. "Of course. What could I do for you, sheriff?"

"I'm looking for information on this old compass. Any idea where it could have come from?"

"Well, well. Look at the detail. You know, this is crystal. This jeweled setting… Despite the rather unfortunate shape it's in, this is actually a very unusual piece. The person who owned this obviously had great taste."

"And where would someone like that buy it?"

"Right here, of course." Dingdingding.

"You know him?"

"Indeed. A piece like this is difficult to forget."

"Do you happen to remember who bought it?"

"Well, I'm good with names, Miss Swan, but maybe not that good. However, as luck would have it, I do keep quite extensive records." Walking away from the lamp, which Emma realized looked suspiciously like the genie's lamp from _Aladdin_ , he approached a small filing cabinet next to his cash register and began to pilfer through it. "And… yes, here we are." But he held away from Emma, observing her as if expecting something.

Always a price with this one.

"What's your price?"

"Forgiveness."

Emma had learned over her life that forgiveness should only be given to those who are truly repentant, and Gold wasn't really sorry. "How about tolerance?"

He smiled at her, "Well, that's a start. The compass was purchased by a Mr. Michael Tillman."

"Is there a year?" Emma didn't expect there to be one, but she was curious nonetheless.

"I'm afraid not, but I generally find that a name is all one needs."

"Thanks, Gold."

"Good luck with your investigation."

Walking out of the shop James said, "You know, I don't actually know why Gold and I don't get along."

"Maybe it's because he's the Crocodile and you're Captain Hook."

He guffawed at her, "Right, and Henry's Peter Pan."

Emma shrugged, she didn't have time to deal with James starting to have his existential crisis. Not when the lives of two children are on the line.

"So, where to now Swan?"

"Granny's. If anyone knows where this guy is, it'll be the hottest traffic spot in town.

Granny pointed them to a car garage where he worked as a mechanic.

He was confused, then defensive when he started to go through the file.

"Not possible."

"Actually, it is."

"Well, I'm sorry, but Dory– she wasn't my, um… It was just once."

"Sometimes, that's all it takes mate."

"I met her when I was camping and we, um… No." He shook his head, "It's not possible. I don't have twins."

"Yes, you do." Emma pushed. "You have twins that have been homeless ever since their mother passed away. You have twins who have been living in an abandoned house because they don't want to be separated from each other. You have twins who are about to be shipped off to Boston, unless you step up and take responsibility for them."

"Look, I can barely manage this garage. I can't manage two kids. And why are you so sure they're mine?"

Emma pulled out the compass, "Have you ever seen this?"

"I lost that."

"Let me guess– twelve years and nine months ago? I know it's a lot, three months ago Henry showed up on my doorstep and I was terrified. But he needed me, and I ended up moving here for him."

"I heard about that, you and the mayor's son. But staying in town is a lot different than taking him in."

"I don't have my son because I don't have a choice short of kidnapping of him. You do. Those kids did not ask to be brought into this world, but you and their mother did it anyway. And now, Ava and Nicholas need you. And if you choose not to take them in, you are going to have to answer for that every day of your life. And sooner or later, when they find you– and they will find you because you will be a ghost that will haunt them for the rest of their lives– you're going to have to answer them."

Michael Tillman stepped away from Emma and James, distancing himself from the idea of his children. "I'm really sorry. I am. I don't know anything about being a dad. If it's a good home you're looking for, it's not with me."

"Just meet them, please. Meet them."

"I can't."

James made to walk away, pulling gently on Emma's arm, but she stood firm and afraid of what she was about to say to a stranger. "I had decided before Henry was born that I was going to give him up for adoption. I did so much research and had so many medical tests done to ensure that he ended up in one of the best adoption agencies in the country. When he was born, the doctor asked me if I wanted to hold him and I refused because I knew that if I did, if I looked at him, and fully felt how much I loved him already, then I would have kept him. But I refused because I thought his best chance wasn't with me. And now, ten years later I see how wrong I was and it will haunt me for the rest of my life. Michael, don't let ten years pass just to realize the same mistake I made. Don't do the same thing to Ava and Nicholas that I've done to Henry."

Michael's eyes had begun to water, the reality of the situation and Emma's guilt hitting him like a tidal wave. "But what if I can't?"

"Believe me, you'll be haunted by the possibility that you could have if don't try now."

Nervously, he wiped his hands with his grease rag. "Where are they?"

"Our apartment. Do you want the address?"

"Yes."

James' hand moved from Emma's arm, to lightly resting on her shoulder as they walked back to the car. For a brief moment, she leaned into it, into him, before getting in the car and driving away. It was a victory, but it was a sad one.

In the car over to the apartment James called Social Services and informed them that Ava and Nicholas would not be leaving Storybrooke, that they had found a home here for them instead. Social Services didn't put up a fight for it. James and Emma had only sat down for a few minutes before Regina was knocking on the loft's door.

"What are you doing here?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Seeing to it that you do your job. And looking for my son, who I see is playing with the delinquents."

Emma corrected her, "You mean Ava and Nicholas. Who aren't leaving, by the way."

"Excuse me?"

James looked over at Emma, at her emotionally exhausted form, and the concealed trauma in her eyes. He watched Mary Margaret standing next to Regina, looking small and intimidated next to the looming force of the mayor. Emma had been right when she accused him of being chicken shit. James stepped in,"Yes, Madam Mayor. We thought it best for the children if they did not have to be separated nor leave Storybrooke. So we found a home for them here."

"With whom?"

"I'm afraid that it's official police business Madam Mayor, and cannot be disclosed. Since you've located your son, I believe it is time for you to leave."

"Are you dismissing me sheriff?"

"Unless either Emma or Mary Margaret disagree?"

Emma remained silent, but Mary Margaret found courage when she saw the hollowed look on Emma's face. "No, I think James is right. You're hostile personality isn't good for the children."

"Excuse me?"

"We can't do anything about Henry right now, but we can protect Ava and Nicholas. Leave Regina, or I'll have you arrested for trespassing."

Glaring daggers at Mary Margaret, "Are you threatening me?"

"It's only a threat if there's some truth in it."

Regina's response was to order Henry out the door. But before he left Henry ran up to Emma to give her one last hug, he sensed that a line had been drawn and that he would be stuck on the wrong side of it. Regina slammed the door behind them.

"You shouldn't have antagonized her like that." Emma said glumly.

"Why?"

"Because you just put a gigantic target on our backs."

An hour later and timid knocking was heard on the other side of their door. This time, it was Michael Tillman.

His eyes were only for his children. "Hi."

Ava and Nicholas huddled together, but didn't back away. "Hi."

"You're Ava and Nicholas?"

"Yeah, who are you?"

Emma, Mary Margaret, and James watched as Michael Tillman bent down on one knee and said, "My name is Michael and I learned today that I'm your father. I'm here to take you home with me, if you two would like that."

It turns out that they would like that very much.

That night, when they were alone in the loft, Mary Margaret asked Emma about her parents. "Did you ever have your parents?"

"No, the day I was born I was put into the system."

"What happened? Do you know?"

Emma fiddled with the corner of her baby blanket, gathering strength to answer her mother's questions. "Uh, yeah. I do, actually. The reason I'm here and tied up in all of this–isn't just because of Henry. The beginning of my story is the ending to the storybook. My parents, they sent me here to save me– and so I could save them."

"That means you know who your parents are."

"Yeah, well, it's not that simple. I know who they are, but I don't. Not really."

"Because of the curse… Emma– that… that has to be unbearable. To finally have found them, but to not have."

"I'd, um, rather not talk about this, if you don't mind." She turned her face away, obscuring it.

"Of course! Here. How about some hot chocolate?"

"I think I'd rather go to bed, good night Mary Margaret."

Emma lied in bed for some hours, thinking about her parents and what kind of people they were.

Would they be proud of her? Would they be ashamed that she was a soldier? Had a child out of wedlock? Been to prison?

Her anxious thoughts were interrupted by a quiet voice on her nightstand. Emma sat up to find one of her earpiece walkie talkies making noise.

Putting it in, she found Henry calling her name.

"Henry?"

"Emma! I hope you don't mind, but I found these in your bag and thought they'd be a good way for us to stay in touch."

"No, it's fine kid. A good idea, actually."

"Really?" She could hear the grin in his voice. "Good. I wanted to tell you that what you did– with Ava and Nicholas– you are really changing things."

" _We're_ changing things, Henry."

"I wanted to say thank you, for letting me look through your bag. I know there was a lot of stuff in there that meant something to you and I'm really happy that you let me be a part of that, Emma. And for letting me look at pictures of you and Killian. I'm really excited to meet him when the time comes."

A tear rolled down her cheek, "Me too, kid."


	10. Because of a Storm

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who is enjoying the story! Thank you to my reviewers! I really appreciate

the love you guys have given the story. We are a little past the halfway point, with the story having 16 chapters total.

You can also find the story on Tumblr under my blog, Goldengirlschildhood or on the Captain Swan Big Bang page.

Chapter Ten: Because of a Storm

Emma watched as Mary Margaret frantically ran around their apartment getting ready.

"I can't believe I overslept." She panickly muttered repeatedly with a toothbrush in her mouth.

"It's only seven, Mary Margaret. Besides, I doubt he'd leave without seeing you."

"I know, but I feel like if I miss 7:15 then we'll slide back. It's like everyday we get to see each other I'm a little bit more of who I'm supposed to be." Looking down at her watch, "Oh! I have to go! Bye Emma!" And she ran out the door, giving Emma a surprise kiss on the cheek, then leaving her alone in the apartment.

Emma stared at the emptiness left in Mary Margaret's wake and thought about her parents. They had been sneaking around for months, having quiet meetings and cups of coffee. But is hiding their relationship breaking the curse? Or feeding into it?

Emma suspected that Mary Margaret's insistence that her and David were together was another facet of the curse, a twisting of her character to make her accepting of David's fear of leaving his wife.

And she didn't know which one to needle into the right path.

Both?

She'll try both.

Emma met David on his way out of Granny's. "Hey, David. What are you doing here so early?"

He held up the two to-go cups he held in his hands, "Oh, Kathryn wanted some of Granny's coffee."

Emma smiled at the lie, "That's nice of you to come get it for her. How are you doing though?"

David shrugged, "I'm alright. James and I are meeting Henry after school for LARPing, which is pretty exciting. He's not a bad swordsman."

Her lips quirked at that, the unaware master swordsman compliments his own grandson's ability. It was good to hear, but also heartbreaking. These should be times that both David and Henry cherished as grandfather and grandson. Not nice man and child.

"Good to hear, maybe he'll need to know how to swordfight one day." Emma half joked.

David laughed, "Yeah, maybe he'll need to fight a dragon. See you later, Emma."

"Bye David." Emma watched him walk towards a car where Kathryn was waiting, where he gives her a kiss and her coffee.

Walking into the diner Emma asked Mary Margaret how she was doing.

"I was late and he was ready to go." She reported despondently.

"He was ready to leave so he could take coffee to his wife." Emma felt cruel as she watched Mary Margaret flinch at her comment. "Mary Margaret… do you really think that being the mistress is going to change anything? Don't think that maybe you're just playing into the curse? Making yourself and David more miserable?"

"What would you have me do instead? Not see him? You said that we need to bring the people who have been separated together. Well, that's what I'm doing." Mary Margaret insisted, her frustration and anger building up before Emma.

"Is this being together? Flirty and carrying-on behind Kathryn's back?" Emma shook her head. "No, it isn't. This isn't being together. This isn't right. You can't beat wrong with more wrong or you'll just create more problems."

"Just because you don't know what being together with someone is like doesn't mean that you can judge me."

Emma slowly leaned back in her seat, "Wow."

Mary Margaret reached out, "Emma, I'm–"

"Have a good day and go fuck yourself." Emma dismissed her attempts at apology. It was too early for her to take this shit, so she walked out the door and went to the station.

Mary Margaret sat in her seat, ashamed and sorry.

When she arrived it was only for James to inform her that a storm was imminent and they had to prepare. Classes had been cancelled and citizens close to the shore were removed to the school for their safety. James and Emma went to work stacking sandbags to try to hold off flooding in some areas, sailors from around the docks pitched in.

In a powerful gust of wind a small fishing ship got torn from its moorings. The sheriffs and sailors fought the rain and the wind to try to save the ship. James began to yell orders over the storm and the sailors followed as if on instinct. Emma would reflect on the event later only to realize that it was instinct for James to take charge and fall into the well oiled machine that is ship life.

In the moment however, she was lost.

Emma knew how to sail. She knew the name for every part of a ship and how to work on them. She had learned how to sail on the East African coast, the Persian Gulf, and the Arabian Sea.

The problem was, she didn't learn how to do any of it English.

So Emma attached herself to a thick, burly man and did whatever he snapped at her to do as the Captain Hook came out of James Jones.

Emma and James collapsed into the patrol car, soaking wet, after they were done at the docks. Several calls had come in requesting various services from citizens pertaining to the storm. They didn't eat or sit down until dusk. The wind had picked up speed and the power across town had gone out. Advisories were sent out across town for people to hunker down and stay put. Waiting out the storm was the best option for now, but Emma and James had to stay on call in case an emergency came up. It was dusk when they made it back to the station, but it was pitch black outside.

When Emma walked into the dimly lit station from the generator she immediately made to strip off her wet clothing and brace, keeping only her underwear on.

James followed suit.

They laid out their drenched clothing on chairs and dragged out space heaters to put in front of them. When they were finished they made for a cot in a jail cell.

It was the first time either of them had worn anything other than long sleeve shirts and pants in front of the other.

Well, the first time that James could remember.

In the soft light Emma could see that the cut where his hand should be was smooth, but that his various braces over time had worn scars into his skin. On his torso she could make out cut marks, presumably from swords he undoubtedly got into. Emma didn't need him to lean forward to know that lash marks had carved a landscape onto his back. She could see his three tattoos. One on his ribcage with an insignia that read his brother's name. A second on his right forearm that bore Milah's name with the Dark One dagger running through it. And a third one, much smaller than the rest just underneath his clavicle of a swan spreading its wings.

James could make out long surgery scars and deep cuts on her left leg. He could see her surgery patched knee and the cut marks that ran up her arms. He could make out scars on her torso that mirrored the ones on his own. He could see her three tattoos. One on her ribcage that read "Study war so that others may study peace." A second on her wrist of a flower in bloom. And a third one just beneath her clavicle of a ship setting sail.

Their eyes trailed the other, but neither spoke. Too caught up in their day and what was before them.

Emma gave a wry smile, "Kind of a shit day, huh?"

"Yes, yes it was." James breathlessly laughed out.

A moment of silence passed between them, but neither were content with that.

"Wanna play cards and eat some shitty emergency food?"

"God yes." James replied. Emma threw a deck at him and went into the backroom to grab some food and space blankets for warmth.

They spent some time poking fun at each other's abilities and hands.

"You're a real shit liar, Jones."

"I can read you like an open book, Swan."

"Are you cursed with bad luck or did you ask for your bad hand?"

"You play cards like a child who can't draw in the lines: wild and irregular."

"Bite me, Jones."

"Gladly, Swan."

Back and forth they went with their banter until slowly it died out to give way for a different kind of discussion. The clock ticked its way past midnight.

Tick tock.

"How did you know what to do earlier? At the docks?"

"What do you mean?"

"You took over, Jones. Completely. You were giving orders left and right like you were born into the role of captain." Emma knew that his sailing instincts came to the surface then, but what did his cursed persona make of it?

James was quiet and contemplative. "I… I don't rightly know to be honest. I didn't have to think. I knew what to do." Laughter began to bubble behind his eyes, "But you– you were clearly lost. Fumbling around, doing whatever the guy next to you told you to do."

He was trying to deflect attention from himself. It was a tactic Emma recognized, almost every person she had tried to point out holes to inevitably attempted to get out of the conversation. It made them uncomfortable, she thought, to not know why they knew how to do some of things that they did.

She wasn't falling for it. "Do you think that maybe, just maybe, before the curse that you were a sailor? A captain even?"

"This is assuming that I believe the curse theory."

"Do you?" She has never directly discussed it with James, always trying to around it with him. Emma was afraid that he'd reject her if she tried, terrified of losing even this cursed closeness after so many years apart.

But in her exhaustion she's grown brave. Or maybe just impatient.

"Why do you?" Deflection again, but this time it might be beneficial to answer.

"I don't have to believe. I know it is."

"You know?"

"Either I know or I'm delusional." She told him. "And I'm pretty sure I'm not delusional."

James watched Emma skeptically, "How do you know?"

Emma stared at James, taking him in. The years had added lines around his eyes and a scar on his cheek. They filled out his beard and placed gravity in his blue eyes. Before, she recognized the same hunger pained face and starvation for education in him that she had in her. Now, whoever he had become, was buried under the curse and it broke her heart. Emma was dying to know if she could still find her fellow kindred spirit, if the man she loved could still be found.

There were too many variables that could change a person in two hundred years.

And it scared the shit out of her.

But now wasn't the time for fear. "Do you remember the guy I told you about? Killian?"

"Aye."

"He's here."

"He's what?"

"Here. He's in Storybrooke, Jones."

"Who is he? Have you talked to him?"

Emma watched him closely, looking for any sign of hope or recognition. The only thing she saw was the slightest of flickers in his eyes, which gave her enough courage to say, "I think you already know the answer that."

He pulled away from her and began to fidget on the cot, "It's been ten years Emma, how can you be sure that it's even him?"

She laughed, "What? You think ten years will make a person completely unrecognizable? Or maybe you think it's just a doppelganger?"

"I'm just saying that it's possible."

"This? Him? Isn't possible. No one could…" No one could replace him. No one could light her up the way that he did. No one could be a balm in times of hardship like him. No one else could be him. And damn, did she fucking try. "It isn't possible." She took the space blanket that pooled around her waist and pulled it up to her shoulders in a gesture of comfort. The conversation hadn't gone as she had hoped. Emma was tired, it was almost two in the morning and James was staring at her with a mixture of concern, alienation and something else that she could not place.

He didn't believe her, and if the curse doesn't break maybe he never would.

"I'm going to bed. Good night, Jones."

Quietly he cleaned up their abandoned cards, set up the second emergency radio for himself, and left the cot for the other cell.

"Good night, Swan."

They woke up a few hours later, put on their still damp clothing, and went out to survey the town. Again they had to focus most of their attention on the docks area, handing out supplies and offering assistance. Mary Margaret joined them and regaled them with the tale of how David Nolan had saved her life during the storm when she went to reunite a dove with her flock.

"I had to do it. I couldn't let her lose the love of her life because of a storm, Emma."

"Mary Margaret, it was a bird."

She shook her head, "Love is always worth fighting for." Mary Margaret bit her lower lip and contemplating what she was about to say next, "And you were right. What David and I are doing… it isn't right. It isn't solving anything. Nothing is getting better. Things are just broken in a different way. But Emma, I don't know what to do."

Emma wasn't sure either after her failure with Killian last night, but she guessed she could try again. "Let me do something."

Her roommate shook her head but her mind had gone off to something else, "And Emma… what I said yesterday. It was unacceptable and cruel. We haven't even discussed that topic. I'm sorry. I am truly sorry."

Emma nodded her head. Mary Margaret was right, it was unacceptable and needlessly cruel. "I know."

It was 7:15 AM during the first week of February and Emma sat, parked in a booth across from David Nolan who was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with her silent stare. Normally, Emma did not have to leave the loft until 7:50. But today she made an exception. Today, she woke up early to turn off Mary Margaret's alarm clock in order to surprise David at Granny's.

" _Love is always worth fighting for._ " And boy was Emma ready to fight. She was tired. Mary Margaret was tired. Henry was tired. They all wanted their family. In their emotional exhaustion they found their strength in hope. Hope for a brighter future. Hope for husband and wife to be reunited. Hope for a daughter to finally find her parents and her true love. Hope for a little boy to have the life he always dreamed of.

Emma wanted to have a talk with her father.

He had tried several times to start the conversation, but each time Emma held up a hand to stop him.

This wasn't his TEDtalk.

"You have lost so many years of your life, David." _More than you know_. "Do you really want to lose more to a woman who you don't really know and who you have no connection with? Or do you want to spend it with someone who makes you feel _everything_?"

David didn't response to her, he couldn't even meet her eyes.

"Hey, look at me. David, look. At. Me." And when he finally did, Emma continued, "Aside from your own misery in this marriage, it isn't fair to Kathryn. She deserves to find someone who would really love her, not be stuck, married to a person who is only staying out of obligation. It is cowardly, David, to stay with someone because you think you should. Kathryn deserves more than that. You deserve more than that. If you don't love her, David, you should leave her. Staying is just being a coward."

Throughout her speech David kept eye contact and when she finished he slowly blinked at her and leaned back in his chair, away from her, attempting to distance himself. He looked like he wanted to speak, wanted to say something to her, but was uncertain if it should be a rebuke or an acknowledgement.

Either way, Emma was not going to give him a chance to speak.

"David," He was looking at her again and Emma could see guilt trying to make its way to the surface. "Be someone your daughter can be proud of."

Ruby arrived then with their hot chocolate. Two cups with whipped cream and cinnamon on top.

David was looking rather confused, "how… how did you know I like hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon?"

 _Must be a family thing._

"Just a guess." Still, he didn't look up from his mug.

[ _The Enchanted Forest Prince Charming_ ]

Snow had given birth to their beautiful baby girl, and with one look at her, at _Emma_ , David knew he would die for her.

And that he was about to.

 _Eyes like her mother's._

With Emma in one arm and his sword in another, David fought his way through the guards of the Evil Queen, taking injuries along the way.

But he made it.

He made it to her nursery.

He placed Emma into the wardrobe, and the last thing he saw was a guard opening its door, only to find it empty.

 _She's safe._

 _Emma._

Her name was the last word he breathed.

Slowly, Emma watched as David looked up from his cup and at her.

His was quavering and uncertain, "I don't have a daughter."

"You sure? You don't sound very confident."

"I uh… I… I have to go. I'm sorry, I'm suddenly not feeling well."

"Sure thing, David. Feel better." Emma watched as her father all but ran out of Granny's diner, almost running Ruby over in the process.

"Whoa, what got into him?"

Emma waved her hand in dismissal, "Aach, I think he's got that thing going around."

You know, a _curse_.

David wasn't sure exactly what it was that he experienced in the diner. His head was pounding, his stomach was churning, but most importantly his heart was exploding.

He could not understand why.

Whatever it was that David Nolan was experiencing, it invigorated him, and silenced his cowardice. He walked into his house without fear and without hesitation.

 _She was right._

Kathryn was sitting on the couch in the living room when he walked in, looking for all the world confused and concerned that David was home so soon.

"David, are you alright? You look unwell."

"Are you happy?"

"What? David–"

"No, Kathryn, are you happy? In our marriage, are you happy?"

"I… David…"

"You're not, are you?" She wouldn't look at him, and he took that as confirmation.

"Are you in love with me?"

"David, I do love you."

"That isn't the same thing."

"I know."

"Then why are we doing this? Kathryn, I am not the same David Nolan who fell into a coma. That David Nolan was a coward who could never tell you how unhappy he was. That was a David Nolan who would have let you live the rest of your life in mediocrity. A David Nolan who could never love you the way you deserve, but would have stayed with you anyway. And today, Kathryn, it is time to say goodbye to that David Nolan. And our marriage. We both deserve _more_ , Kathryn."

She was crying, but knew he was right. Ending a marriage is never easy.

With tears in her eyes, Kathryn shook her head and said, "Yeah, yeah. You're right, David, and I'm glad one of us finally said it."

"I uh… I think I better go pack up some clothing and book a room at Granny's."

"She told me I would ruin multiple lives, Emma!"

"Hello to you too, Mary Margaret." Emma stood up from her desk and stepped into the hallway in an attempt at a more private conversation. Her roommate was so loud that it was guaranteed that Jones could hear her.

"Regina! She came up to me at the diner, told me David left Kathryn, and that it was my fault! She called me a homewrecker! Ruin multiple lives? She cursed an entire country!"

"Mary Margaret, I know you're angry but can you stop and appreciate the fact that David left his fake wife and that the curse is definitely cracking?"

She paused in her tirade, a smile coming through her voice. "I'll tell Henry."

" _Love is always worth fighting for._ "

Emma returned to the office to find James watching her, he had definitely heard their exchange. Since the storm he had danced around her, as if afraid that she would bring it up again. Looking into those brilliant blue eyes that morning Emma saw nothing familiar. Nothing that told her Killian lay beneath the surface.

"I'm sorry, Emma." Unexpectedly broke the tense silence, to both of their surprises.

But Emma didn't want James' condolences.

She just wanted Killian.


	11. Terrified

Author's Note: Thank you everyone for reviewing and reading! The story is coming to its head and I hope you enjoy it.

"Hey, kid." Emma greeted Henry who rode by her on his bike, too much in a panicked hurry to say hello back to her. She had been waiting for him to show up at his castle, not surprised that it took him a few days to get away from his mother. Emma knew that this is where Henry would come first, even if he hadn't sent a quick message that morning using the walkie talkies. The castle meant to much to him, to them. "Nice to see you, too," she told his back.

"The storm!"

The storm had not been kind to the castle, bringing all but the main support structure down. "It's okay–we can fix it. I'll talk to Marco."

Henry threw his bike to the ground and started frantically digging around in the sand. "Do you think it's still here?"

"Do I think what is here?"

"My book."

"Why'd you bury it here?"

"So my mom didn't find it." Emma did not understand his logic, but she tried to roll with it anyway.

Emma knelt in the sand next to him and started digging, "Henry, I appreciate the pirate mentality but I don't think that was the best laid plan."

"I couldn't let the Evil Queen find it." As he spoke, his hands revealed a bright red metal box hidden in the sand.

"What about leaving it with me?"

"She'll look there."

"She can't look where she doesn't have a key."

He couldn't hear her through his relief. "I'm so glad it's safe."

Emma smiled at his relief. "Henry, does your mom know about the castle?"

He shook his head, "No. It's our secret." Henry put a finger to his lips in a hush-hush gesture.

Emma put on her most serious face, trying to mask her amusement, and mimicked his finger-to-lips movement.

They both broke out into grins.

"Henry! Henry!" Henry slammed the box shut and rushed to rebury it as Regina stormed towards them. "I've been looking everywhere for you. You know you have a session with Archie this morning." Turning towards Emma with a sneer, "I should have known he was with you. Henry– car. Now."

Emma spoke as Henry ran towards the mayor's car, "Good afternoon, Madam Mayor."

"You let him play here?"

She shrugged and ignored Regina's accusation, "The storm hit it hard, but it can be rebuilt."

Regina did not appreciate her nonchalant demeanor. "Well, can you fix a cracked cranium? Because that's what you'll have on your hands if one of these boards collapse under his weight. You don't think of Henry or his safety. Just ways around me. Miss Swan, don't let your feelings cloud your judgement. People can get hurt."

Look at the pot calling the kettle black, Emma thought. This lady literally cursed an entire country out of revenge against a single person who made a mistake when they were ten years old. Further, it is ironic to think that Regina blamed a ten year olds actions when it directly affected her, but refuses to acknowledge that Henry, a ten year old himself, has any kind of agency over his actions."I think people are getting hurt, but it's not because of me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're the mayor– take responsibility for your actions."

Regina narrowed her eyes into a glare at Emma, "I don't know to what you are referring sheriff, but unlike you I have work to do." That was all the goodbye she gave Emma before marching away.

Emma made sure to take the red metal box with her when she left.

"Don't let my feelings cloud my judgement? That's all Regina ever does." Emma complained to James, who could only nod in agreement as he was busy shoving a hamburger into his mouth.

His gluttonous demeanor didn't bother Emma, but the nineteen year old Killian Jones she had known was all manners and decorum, while she ate like a shit pig after a long day on deployment. She wondered if Killian could see himself now what he would say. Would he be disgusted with his cursed self?

After their talk during the storm she had been afraid that James would pull away, that she had pushed too much. That she would lose him again. Instead he had been sad, and reflecting on his behavior the next day Emma thought he looked almost heartbroken.

She can relate.

In the end, something in James melted towards her and he became more comfortable.

After he scarfed down his burger he told Emma, "Well, Regina has never been great about taking criticism or responsibility for herself. Besides, that castle was fine before the storm. It just needs rebuilt now."

"How did she even find out about the castle?"

"She's the mayor love, she knows everything." Right.

"Yeah, well, how do you stay ahead of a person who knows everything?"

A voice interrupted them, "I think I can help with that."

Emma and James looked up at Sidney Glass pushing his way into the booth next to Emma. She and James exchanged a warning and uncomfortable glance before focusing on Sidney.

"Woah. Sidney. You want a side of bacon with that whiskey?" Emma didn't like unfamiliar people sitting next to her, and she certainly didn't like drunk men sitting next to her.

"You want to show the town who the mayor really is? I can help."

"That's going to be a little hard to do from inside her pocket, mate." James told him as he stood up.

"The mayor and I are done."

"Sure you are." Emma said, leaning back into the corner of the booth, trying to put some sort of distance between them. He smelled like Jack and a trap.

"She got me fired from the paper. She made a fool of me in the election. So I started working on an exposé on the mayor's office, and I found something she didn't want found."

He laid out his line, but the fish weren't biting. "I'm sorry to inform you Sidney, but if the evidence you claim to have has been illegally obtained it is completely useless to us." Emma told him through gritted teeth.

Jones loomed over him, he looked as though he was ready to tear Sidney from the booth at a moment's notice, cautiously watching Emma squeezed in the corner. "But we'll tell you what, publish your exposé first and then we'll decide if we need to pursue it."

Sidney felt that his allotted time had run out and became flustered, "Yes, well. That does sound like the more responsible approach for you all. I guess I– uh– better go work on that exposé then. Have a good day, Sheriff Swan, Sheriff Jones."

They both nodded their goodbyes.

"You alright, love?" James asked, his eyes not focusing onto her until Sidney was out of view.

"I'm fine."

Jones turned to Emma then, reading her like a book, and he found within her pages that she wanted the topic dropped. So with a smile he asked, "So Swan, what's the other news for today?" When he sat down to eat his fries he interrupted Emma before she answer with a, "Blast him! My fries got cold."

Emma smirked, "Bad luck, Jones. But I've got an idea that might cheer you up."

"And what is that?" He asked, sitting up to pay attention.

Emma fiddled with her napkin. The station situation hurt, but in the end it felt like a step forward. She wanted to risk another step. "Valentine's Day is only a few days away." James' eyebrows shot up, "I don't have a date. You don't have a date– or I don't think you have a date. Do you have a date?" Fuck, she was nervous. He was gorgeous. Of course he already has a date. Why the fuck did she think this was a good idea again?

James leaned back, his tongue licking the corner of his mouth with a scandalously raised eyebrow, "No, Emma. I do not have a date." His flirtatious appearance quickly shifted to uncomfortable with his hand coming up to scratch his ear. "I've never seen you go on a date. What am I supposed to top?"

"There's no topping of anything. I just wanted to have a nice night and I thought you would too." In all honesty, Emma wanted to spend an evening with him. With it being only the two of them working at the station they haven't had much chance to spend time with each other outside of work. When Killian left her ten years ago a cavity had formed in her chest that ached with his absence. With him here, right in front of her but not knowing who she is, that cavity only widened. The few and far between chances they had to just be them, without work pressing down on them was the only balm for her pain. In those moments, Emma felt closer to Killian than she had in ten years.

"Why, love, are you just trying to downplay how irresistible you find me?"

Emma tried to smile, to laugh at his ridiculousness, to enjoy his more open and flirtatious demeanor, but the grief for Killian had consumed her thoughts and brought her down. "No," she told him, her voice soft and sad, "I just really miss you."

James dropped his roguish attitude in place for a gentle look, reaching his hand across the table for Emma's. "I'd love nothing more than to spend an evening with you." He told her, eyes wide and honest.

Killian was so close in that moment, Emma felt the ghost of his forehead resting against hers.

"But I have one question." He looked so open, so scared, his blue eyes wide and vulnerable, "If your Killian is here in Storybrooke, why are you asking me?"

Words would not come from Emma, and before she could form them James read the answer on her face. _I just did_.

"Am I interrupting something?" Ruby's voice intruded on them.

Emma and James jumped apart, his hand jerked away, leaving her skin burning cold.

"What is it, Ruby?" James asked.

Ruby grinned wide, "Sorry to disappoint you, but really I just need to talk to Emma." Turning towards Emma, "Ashley, Mary Margaret, and I are having a girls night on Valentine's Day. You wanna join?" Suspiciously glancing back at James she said, "There will be tons of cute guys at the bar. That cute guy–what was his name? Heath! You know, he's asked about you a few times."

Emma narrowed her eyes at Ruby. There was no Heath and she had never been to the bars in Storybrooke other than to make arrests.

Across from her, James was glaring at the empty space next to him, jaw tense.

Ruby was trying to be helpful, but she didn't realize that she was also being cruel.

"Funny Ruby, but I don't remember a Heath or ever getting drinks at a local bar." Ruby's face fell. "Guess you have me mixed with someone else." Picking up her jacket, Emma made to leave. "Thanks for the invitation, but I have other plans." She told her as she placed money on the table. "Have fun though."

On Valentine's Day both Emma and James were buzzing with excitement. He had insisted on doing the planning for the evening.

" _What? You think I don't know how to plan a date?"_

 _He stepped forward, his face inches from hers, "You know how to catch criminals and fight bad guys. I know how to plan an evening out."_

Emma didn't fight him, curious about what he'd come up with and if it would bring her closer to Killian. She had taken extra care when getting ready that morning.

Mary Margaret began to get suspicious about James Jones and who he was, but Emma deflected her questions with ones of her own about David. Mary Margaret was much more willing to answer questions than Emma.

Depressed, she told Emma, "David doesn't want to do anything for Valentine's Day. He said that he needs to invest time in himself and figure out who he is before he could throw himself in a new relationship. I understand that, but…"

"There's an ache in your chest that he heals?"

"Yeah, exactly. Is that what James does for you? Who is he, Emma?"

She ignored the question, "You've started David on the right path, or what we hope the right path is. We're mostly bumbling around in the dark, but it can only be a matter of time before the curse is broken. Just… don't lose contact with him."

At mid-morning Emma and James answered a call about a break-in at Gold's house. The door was left wide open, but they did not notice anything to be out of place aside from the front door with its bashed lock.

Gold greeted them with a gun not too long after they arrived. "Sheriff Swan. Sheriff Jones."

"Put your gun down. Your neighbor saw your front door open and called it in."

"It appears I've been robbed."

"I wonder why." James told him, very much in a tone that conveyed that he was not surprised at all.

"Yeah, well, I'm a difficult man to love. Sheriffs, you can go now. I know exactly what was taken and who did it. I've got it from here."

James gave Gold a stern look, eyebrows furrowed. "No, you don't."

Emma joined him, "This was a robbery– a public menace. And if you don't tell us what you know, I'll have to arrest you for obstruction of justice. I have a feeling that you don't want to be behind bars."

"Indeed not." Defeatedly he told them, "His names' Moe French. He sells flowers. He recently defaulted on a loan. A short time ago, we had a little disagreement over collateral."

Looking at Jones Emma said, "Okay. We'll go get him– check him out."

"I'm sure you will– assuming I don't find him… Let's just say, bad things tend to happen to bad people."

"Is that a threat?" James asked.

"Observation. Good luck." Emma and James watched Gold with wary eyes for a moment before leaving, both certain that they had to find Moe French before he did.

Their first stop was at the home of the man himself. It was unlocked, with everything laid out neatly on his dining room table. The only thing missing was Moe French.

"Why lie everything out only to leave it behind?" Emma wondered out loud.

"Maybe he's planning on coming back?" James suggested.

Emma shook her head, "No, he'd be an idiot to do that. He left Gold's door wide open and his unlocked. He wanted someone to know he'd been there, and he wanted someone to find all of this."

"For what purpose?"

"So we'd stop looking." Emma inspected an antique intricately designed copper tea cup.

"But he's still missing."

"Yes, but a thief missing with no goods is much lower on the totem pole than a thief with goods."

James nodded, understanding her meaning. "He stole nice, expensive items in order to steal something smaller, probably something more personal that only Gold would notice is missing."

"Exactly, it was a personal problem between them and he reacted by taking something personal from Gold".

"The next question is what did he take?"

Looking at the copper cup gave her an idea. "That is something we'll have to ask Gold."

A call came in with a lead on Moe's location, which left Emma alone at the station to deal with Gold as James went out to look around. She wasn't upset by the situation, Emma thought it was time to stop dancing around Gold.

She had laid everything out on her desk and covered it until Gold arrived. Holding onto a corner of the cloth she told the anxious pawnbroker, "We went to his house. He left his door unlocked and everything inside. But I suspect to you we've recovered nothing." Unveiling what lie beneath the sheet, what Emma found on his face confirmed her suspicions.

He was full of rage. "You're right. You've recovered nothing."

He began to storm out but Emma's words stopped him, "What's missing? A chipped cup?"

Gold whirled on her, "What do you know, dearie?"

"Exactly what I needed to. If what's missing is something you'll murder for. I was right."

His face twisted into a vicious sneer, "Let's hope you get to him first, then."

When he was gone, Emma called James to tell him what was missing. "It's a chipped tea cup and he'll murder Moe for it. We have to find him first, Jones."

"I'm trying, love. Several leads just came in." He gave the details to Emma, splitting them fifty-fifty. Before they hung up he told her, "And Emma? If this ruins tonight _I_ might murder Moe French."

Emma grinned into the phone, "Then we better get moving, Jones. We've got a murder to prevent."

A lead had come in to Emma about the North Woods, a rather vacant side of town that was full of large houses spread far apart. She thought that this one might be it because someone could easily come and go without ever being seen here.

She was right, but it didn't lead her to Moe French.

Instead, it took her right into a man named Jefferson who barely escaped the hood of her car by jumping over an incline.

Emma slammed on the brakes and jumped out of her car, "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

He stood up and checked himself for injuries, "Uh, I think so."

"Are you sure?" Instinctively she started to check over him herself for injuries, but he grabbed a hold of her hands to stop her.

"I'm fine. I'm not used to sharing the road with cars so late. You're the sheriff, aren't you?"

"Yeah." She answered, her brain though was somewhere else, running through military medic protocols.

"What brings you out here in the middle of the night?"

Emma took a deep breath and stepped back, trying to bring herself back to the present. "I'm out looking for a man named Moe French. Have you seen or heard anything suspicious?"

"Can't say that I have. I hope you find him."

"Thank you."

Jefferson began to walk away, but Emma saw the obvious limp he was trying to hide.

"Oh, you're hurt." _God damnit, Emma_.

"No, I just twisted my ankle, I think. I live just a mile down the road. I'll make it okay." He insisted. In the back of her mind something tingled at his words, but she ignored it.

"No, let me drive you. I insist."

He didn't fight her, "Thank you. I'm Jefferson."

She held out her hand, "Emma."

As they got into Emma's car James called her.

She sent it to voicemail.

They spent the afternoon chasing leads, both continually coming up empty. More and more calls came in. None brought answers until night fell when James got a lead that took him to Gold's cabin on the outskirts of town.

Gold found Moe first and time was running out.

 _Tick tock_.

James tried to call Emma, but was sent to voicemail.

He talked to her voicemail when it was over and Gold was under arrest and Moe French was in an ambulance. "Where are you, love? Gold found Moe first, but he's alive and Gold's in a cell."

He talked to her voicemail again after he booked Gold at the station. "Emma? I've booked Gold. I'm going to go home and get ready. Please call me and let me know you're alright."

Voicemail again when he went home to clean up and get dressed. "I'm on my way to the loft, love."

Voicemail when she wasn't at her apartment. "Emma? Emma, please pick up. Where are you?"

Voicemail when he learned that it had been six hours since anyone had contact with her. "Emma? Emma, honey, it's Mary Margaret. We haven't heard from you in hours. Are you okay?"

Voicemail when the fear set in. "Emma, dear god, love. We're looking for you. Mary Margaret, David, Ruby, Granny, Marco. Everyone. We're all looking now." His voice caught in his throat, "I swear, I won't stop until I find you."

Emma Swan was missing and James Jones didn't realize how terrified that would make him.

He called Mary Margaret Blanchard and David Nolan. He told Granny and Ruby, Archie and Marco. It wasn't long before a small army was looking for her in the predawn light.

The worst part of her missing was telling Henry, who cried and accused his mother of orchestrating the disappearance.

No trace could be found.

Given their history, James considered Regina a likely suspect and wanted to take Henry from her. Mary Margaret would have taken him in, where she and David Nolan could take turns looking after him while James worked tirelessly to find Emma. But Regina refused on the grounds that he didn't have enough evidence to make an arrest.

And she was right, damnit.

James knew Mary Margaret would be afraid, but hadn't expected the strength of David Nolan's reaction. He dropped everything from work and divorce proceedings to join them. The loft became their headquarters.

James felt like he was losing the ground he had been standing on. The edges of his life blurred, mixing with another.

As he worked flashes of another life played behind his eyelids. Images of a youthful and grinning Emma Swan in a military uniform. Grasslands he had never seen. Ships he was never on. A brother he didn't have. Swords he didn't know how to use. Echoes of dances, laughter, and love bounced around his heart, making it ache with a need that somehow felt so familiar, and yet so distant.

All of this bombarded him, and all of it made him more and more determined to find Emma Swan.

He was terrified.

They all were.

Emma Swan, the orphan who never had any one that wanted her around, now had a family that was desperate to have her back.

And she didn't even know.


	12. The Real Curse

**CHAPTER TWELVE: The Real Curse**

Emma eyed Jefferson as they drove to his house. He was familiar enough that she knew she had seen him in the book, but unimportant enough that she couldn't place his story.

Regardless, she was wary of him but felt deep guilt for running him off the damn road, so Emma decided not to pursue his cursed persona and instead did her best to be pleasant.

He was not, however, a fan of small talk.

They eventually pulled into a long, curving drive that stopped at the bottom of a large staircase. "Wow! This is your house? It looks more like a hotel. You must have a huge family." At the look on his face Emma realized her mistake. Lonely souls tend to identify each other.

Jefferson gave a curt, "Nope. Just me," as he struggled to lift himself out of the car and up the stairs.

Feeling bad for not only almost killing the man, but now for assuming family relations Emma knew all to well only dug into the wound, she followed him out of the car. "Here. Wait." She took his arm and draped it over her shoulder. Carrying his weight for him, something she wasn't unaccustomed to, they made it inside the mansion.

"You're awfully nice, sheriff Swan. Your partner must be worried about you. Do you need to call him? Sheriff Jones?" There was something in that question, here in his living room, something that tried to alarm Emma. Warn her that he was fishing.

She ignored it.

"No, he's out doing the exact same thing I am on a different part of town. I'll call him later."

"In that case, would you like some tea?"

Emma smiled, "I almost kill you and you offer me tea? I'm not the nice one here."

He limped out of the room and came back a few minutes later carrying a tea tray and a large rolled up piece of paper. "Here we go. I thought you might want to warm up for your search. It's cold out there."

"That is kind of you, but I really should get back to it." Emma mouthed around the tea as she took a long drink.

"I know, that's why I brought this." He waved around the rolled up paper, "I'm a bit of an amateur cartographer– mapping the area is a hobby. Maybe this will help you find your man."

"Wow." Emma said around the rim of her teacup as Jefferson laid out the map. It was well done, with landmarks and trails marked. She should text Graham, ask him he's seen anything in the woods. "Well, Route Six runs the boundary of the forest, so…" Emma's mind was becoming muddled, the lines on the map blurring, "So, if I just follow that, I should… Be able to…"

"Is something wrong?" Jefferson asked. But he didn't look concerned, Emma thought vaguely, he appeared pleased.

"I'm just, uh… Feeling a little…" Her body slumped over and Jefferson caught her.

"Oh. Let me help you." He said as he dragged her body over to the couch.

"Dizzy."

"Let's just lie you down here. There you go. Let me get you some air." He began to walk away and Emma was conscious enough to see that his limp was gone.

Trying and failing to hold up her arm to point at him she said, "Your limp." Her mouth was dry.

She need water.

He stopped to look down at himself before throwing his arms up in an 'oops' motion and saying, "Oh. That. I guess you caught me."

The last thing Emma asked before falling unconscious was to ask him who he was.

She didn't get the answer.

The room was empty when Emma finally awoke, and slowly she took in her surroundings. She could hear no persons, only the slight buzzing of the lights. She was still on the couch, still in her clothes, and still with her cup of tea. Her mouth was gagged and when she tried to move her body she found that she was bound by ties.

But her mind was clear.

Formulating a plan, Emma quietly maneuvered the teacup onto the floor, knocking the cup onto the carpet. She pinched a throw pillow between her feet, placed it on top of the teacup, and smashed it with the pillow. The noise it made was minimum and when she didn't hear anyone moving to check on her, Emma quickly made to cut herself out of the binds with a broken shard of the cup. In her haste she cut her hand with it, leaving bright red blood stains on the pristine white couch and carpet.

[Deployment, 2002]

Shit, shit, shit. Shit! She had to get to Killian. Emma had to fucking get to him. If she didn't– if she didn't– she refused to think about it. She refused to think about what it would mean if she wasn't able to break out of these god damned cuffs and reach him.

If she reached him too late.

Emma pulled against her chains until a small spot of blood appeared on her wrist. The bright red in stark contrast to the dark of the metal that restrained her.

It gave her an idea.

The bars she was behind were not professionally made, they were full of jagged edges. If she could just reach one sharp angle…

The chains were mercifully long enough for her to put her wrists through the bars.

It took a few tries, but eventually Emma's wrists were coated in enough blood to pull her hands through the cuffs.

She's pretty sure she cracked a tooth trying to keep herself quiet.

But her hands were free.

Emma didn't have her cell phone nor her car keys. She knew she should leave, should walk to town. Should call James.

Emma knew it.

But she didn't do it.

Emma needed to know why she was kidnapped, and if it had anything to do with the curse.

If she left, she might never have this opportunity again.

Across the hallway in another room she found a telescope pointed at the sheriff's station. Looking through it she saw James booking Mr. Gold, meaning he would be ready to start their date. She watched James pull out his cell phone and make a call, looking frustrated and worried with his eyebrows pinched together.

Emma wondered if he was calling her.

She felt guilty for it but next, she moved up the stairs and slowly proceeded down the hallway where she heard two voices.

The man, Jefferson.

And a voice of woman which nudged at Emma's mind like a distant memory. A memory that made her hair stand on end. Slowly, she approached the door from which the voices floated out and through the crack that poured out light into the hall she saw the horrifyingly familiar face of her last foster parent.

Ingrid who tried to have her hit by a car.

Ingrid who had told her they were family.

Ingrid who only loved her if it meant hurting her.

Forget the curse, Emma's instincts forced her to run.

They must have heard though, when she reached the stairs a body flew into hers causing them to crash down the stairs. A sharp pain erupted in her left shoulder and her left knee gave out on her. When she looked up, Ingrid was pointing a gun at her from the top of the stairs. She didn't fight Jefferson when he manhandled her back up the stairs, too caught up in the horrifying face that she had been running from for thirteen years.

They sat her down at a sewing desk in a room where every wall was lined with top hats. She realized where she recognized Jefferson from: _The Mad Hatter_.

Emma refused to look at Ingrid. She addressed Jefferson instead, "You've been watching us why?"

"We've been watching you. We need you to do something."

"Tell me why you've been spying on me."

Jefferson gave her a mad look, "Because, for the last twenty-eight years, I've been stuck in this house. Day after day, always the same. Until one night, you, in your little yellow bug, roll into town, and the clock ticks, and things start to change."

Ingrid stepped in, "It's just like I told you years ago Emma, you're special. You brought something precious to Storybrooke– magic."

"You're insane." Emma spat at Ingrid.

"Because I speak the truth?"

"Because you thought it was a good idea to hit a fifteen year old with a car." Turning away from Ingrid, Emma asked Jefferson who had his eyebrows raised staring at Ingrid, "What do you want?"

He waved at the materials sitting before Emma, "I want you to get it to work."

"You want me to get what to work?"

"The hat. You're the only one who can do this. You're going to get it to work." Taking a hat off of the shelf behind him and setting it beside her he said, "Make me one like that."

"You want me to make a hat? You don't have enough?" Wrong response. He smacked the table in front of her. Emma wondered how long it would be before he smacked her.

Ingrid would let him do it.

"Well, none of them work, do they? Or you wouldn't be here." Emma suspected that with or without the hat she'd still be here. She could feel the manic energy pulsing off of Jefferson, but he wasn't the only person in the room who had an obsessive agenda.

Ingrid had told her that they would be sisters that day when the car came baring down on her. She had been frantic, insistent, obsessive. That same energy radiated off of her now, and the inner child that no one can ever really get rid off was banging on the doors of her soul for Emma to run.

Emma had been running away from Ingrid for thirteen years only to end up heading straight for her.

"You're the Mad Hatter."

He sneered at her, "My name's Jefferson."

"Okay. Jefferson. What if I make your hat and it still doesn't work?"

"It has to work. You're the only one with magic." Magic? Who the fuck does he think she is?

[Deployment, 2002]

Rafiki sat across the fire from her, eyeing her with an indiscernible look on his face as he watched her mend the unconscious Killian's wounds. She wanted to snap at him, to tell him to put himself to use, to get the fuck over here and help her.

But there was something about Rafiki that seemed as though he was always working, even when he was sitting perfectly still. Maybe it was his age, maybe it was his beard, or perhaps it was the deep knowledge he carried in his eyes. Either way, she felt like to snap at him would be to disturb him.

So Emma worked in silence.

Partially because she was afraid if she spoke he'd bring up the test.

And she did not want to think about the test.

Nope. Not fucking thinking about true love and all the damn implications.

So she worked over Killian, until the only thing left to do was to unnecessarily fiddle with the bandages and comb a hand through his hair.

"Come, Emma, you have done all you can for him at the moment. Sit next to me and I will bandage your wrists."

Emma listened, it would be easier than doing it herself after all.

Her wrists had stopped bleeding, but bled they did. Quite a bit, if she was honest, and the skin around them had been rubbed raw by the cuffs. Rafiki tenderly attended to them for several minutes, lulling Emma into a quiet comfort.

Until, that is, he grasped her wrists, pulling her forward until they were nose to nose, his eyes boring into hers.

"How did you know?" At her silence he shook her, "How did you know where he was? How did you know to navigate the castle, child?"

Oh. "I didn't know." Emma told him, "It was instinct."

"Instinct?" He pulled back and continued his work on her wrists, "'Instinct' she says." His forehead crinkled, his lips pursed, then after a few tense minutes he asked, "Tell me. Has it always been instinct for you to find people? Instinct for you to always find your way?"

Emma couldn't remember a time when it wasn't. "Yeah, I guess."

He considered her for a few moments, "Like magic."

"Or just dumb luck."

"Aren't they the same thing?" Rafiki's question hummed in the air between, but neither pursued it further.

Emma went back to carding Killian's hair, and eventually falling asleep at his side.

[

Storybrooke]

"No. Listen. There is no magic here. I'm not saying that magic doesn't exist, but if there is no magic here then no magic hats can be created. You have to wait for the curse to break if you want your hat." Frankly, Ingrid looming over her was enough for Emma to reconsider ever breaking the curse if it kept her at bay.

Jefferson didn't like that answer. His hand made a rope of her hair, tugging her head towards him. "Make. The. Hat."

Hours passed as Jefferson and Ingrid forced Emma to make failed hat after failed hat. "I can't make it work. What you are asking of me is impossible right now."

"No! It has to be you. If it's not, I'm never going home. I'll be cursed to live in this house forever."

"The curse is breaking Jefferson, you just have to be patient."

"Patient! Patient, she tells me! Now you're the mad one! I've been stuck here for twenty-eight years, trapped in my own mind. I didn't even have the pleasure of having a different identity. It's just been me, myself, and I for _twenty-eight years_. Until she showed up." He threw his hand out at Ingrid, "Ingrid told me about you. About how if we just woke up your magic then this would all be over. I had hoped that by now it would have already happened, but I guess not. You are still the same narrow minded girl you were when you lived with Ingrid."

Ingrid laid a hand on Jefferson's elbow, "Jefferson, I think it's time for my plan."

Emma didn't like the sound of any plan that Ingrid came up with and tried to intercept her, "Jefferson, why is it so important to you that you leave as soon as possible?"

He gestured for her to look through another telescope that he had set up in the room. Through it, Emma saw into a dark and empty room, but other windows of the house began to glow.

It was almost five in the morning.

"Her name is Gracie. Here, it's Paige. But it's Grace. My Grace. Do you have any idea what it's like to watch her day in and day out, happy, with a new family? With a new father?"

"She's your daughter?"

"She has no idea who I am. Our life together, where we came from. I do. That's my curse."

"To remember." Emma could sympathize. Being the only one to remember is painful.

"What good is this house, these things, if I can't share them with her?"

"Why don't you reach out to her?"

"How is that working for you? Reaching out to your family? Do you feel like you're together with them? Or is just a personal Hell?" From her silence he took her answer, "Exactly."

"That's why you want me to make the hat work, isn't it? You just want to take Grace home– to your world." That was Jefferson's side of it, but what was Ingrid's? Thirteen years ago she wanted Emma to have magic, and she must have seen Jefferson as a way to go about it.

"It's the one where we can be together… where she'll remember who I am."

"I know what it's like to be separated from your kid."

"Yeah, you do, don't you?"

"It can make you feel like you're losing your mind."

"I'm not losing my mind. I'm not crazy. This is real."

"I know. I know that what you're saying is real." She had to make him comfortable, make him complacent. Anything to keep him from going along with Ingrid's plan.

"You believe?" God his eyes in that moment were so wide, so vulnerable. He was just a desperate man who missed his daughter.

"There's a man in Storybrooke who I met a long time ago. I watched him go through a portal myself. But now, I'm here with him, and he has no idea. Being with someone, but not really being with them, is a horrible curse." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Ingrid peering at her, wondering who her new competition was.

She always hated the other foster kids in the house.

Hated having to share Emma with anyone else.

"So, you're… You're going to help me? You can get it to work?"

Emma bit her lip, it wasn't possible right now for the hat to work. The only magic that would work, she theorized, was the magic that would break the curse. But she had to buy time, James would look for her. She knew he would. "I can try."

Emma made hats for hours. The Sun rose, it reached high noon, and began its descent. Still, every hat that Emma made was a failure.

"They'll never love you, Emma." Ingrid told her in the middle of one of her various failures. "This man you speak of. Your son. They can never love you because they can never understand you. You and I are two of a kind. We're sisters. Only I can love you."

Emma tried her best to ignore her. To not let her get into her head. She filled her thoughts with Henry, of James, and her mother and father. She was so close to having her family and Ingrid was a direct threat to that.

She couldn't lose what she was so close to finally having.

Jefferson became increasingly impatient and aggravated as the day wore on. As dusk fell Emma overheard him tell Ingrid to get her plan ready.

She walked over to the window when Ingrid left the room. When Jefferson had his back turned to inspect her last failed attempt she took the telescope sat by the window, hitting him in the face with it when Jefferson turned around.

When he fell to the floor unconscious she took his gun and made a run for it.

He caught her in the hall, knocking the gun out of her hand. He tangled his hand in her hair and pulled her to a wall which he shoved her against repeatedly until Emma was able to deflect his attack and start one of her own.

The fight was going her way until Ingrid was aiming a gun at her head.

 _Come closer, you bitch_. If Ingrid would just get close enough, Emma could get the gun out of Ingrid's hands and into her own.

But she kept her distance.

They marched Emma out the backdoor of the house, down a vehicle beaten down path.

Emma tried to keep her calm when she saw the car parked at the end of it.

She refused to listen to Ingrid when she spoke.

She couldn't hear Jefferson condemning her for her failure.

She didn't move when Jefferson aimed the gun at her head as Ingrid bound her wrists and ankles. Emma could have tried running, but they would have just shot her and brought her back.

Instead, she stared stone cold ahead of her and prepared for impact. If she could get more height by jumping at just the right moment her injuries would not be so severe. The vehicle wasn't tall, but it didn't ride low like a mustang either. There was chance that if she stood still she'd just go over the hood anyway.

Or she'd go under.

Better height was her best chance.

 _Jones, where are you?_ An insidious thought whispered to her that maybe he wasn't coming, maybe he wasn't even looking.

Maybe he was glad to get rid of the crazy lady.

Ingrid got inside the car and started the engine.

Emma watched it, refusing to look anywhere else but the front fender of that car.

That is, until James' voice was calling her name. He was running towards her, fear on his face. Repeatedly he frantically called her name, uncontrollable emotion on his face and taking over his movements.

Killian always did act on his emotional instinct more than she did.

Mary Margaret and David were right behind him, her mother and father more in control of themselves than James. Jefferson swung his arm around, aiming for a shot at James. Emma hopped forward and shoved her shoulder into him, making him miss. He turned around and shoved her to the ground and the next thing she saw was the underside of the car as it continued to charge towards her.

She scrambled to her feet.

Emma could only move in short bursts and James was still so far away. The car was barreling towards her, Jefferson was running way.

All she saw was James frantically sprinting towards her. Saw the fear on his face.

Saw the love mixed in with it.

She heard gunshots, but didn't know from where. There was yelling, but she wasn't sure from who. The world slowed.

Emma kept her eyes trained on James.

If she was going to die today, Emma wanted the last thing she'd see be his eyes.

She just wished that they weren't so terrified.

But a car is faster than a man.


	13. Came With the Light And Stayed

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Came With the Light and Stayed**

It has been almost 12 hours and Emma Swan is still missing. By dawn, when no new lead came forward and they hit dead end after dead end– even bloody Reginia came up nothing– James reached out to the state department for Emma's ward of the state file. During a few of their many conversations she had hinted at some gruesome things from her past, James wondered if one of them came back to haunt her.

Of course, those files were sealed. He wasn't allowed to look at them without a warrant, but her old case worker was, and an old case worker did.

And the old case worker emailed him a photo of one Ingrid Johansson with the attached note: "The only alarming incident from Emma Swan's past that I know of is with her last foster parent. The last day Ingrid Johansson was seen was the last day Emma Swan was in the foster system when she was fifteen. Emma didn't pop up again until she was seventeen, under a very distressing situation. Johannsson was never seen again, however, leaving the other children in her care abandoned. Some as young as 8 years old. She was in the process of adopting Emma when they both disappeared. In my notes I have that Emma Swan, when found, refused to speak about her last foster mother. I wrote down her reaction, and remember it vividly. At the mention of Ingrid's name Emma began to visibly shake, terrified at the very thought of her. From my own memory of that house I recall Johansson only had interest in Emma, and no one else. Good luck."

The hairs on his arms stood on end as he read the note, but it wasn't until he opened the photo file that he felt his heart freeze.

Suddenly a familiar face was staring back at him.

Ingrid Johansson ran the local ice cream shop. Or did.

It had closed a few months ago.

Approximately around the time Emma Swan came to town as far as James could recall.

"We've called everyone, gone everywhere, and no one knows anything about this woman?" James could not believe it. He could not bloody, fucking, believe it. A small army of volunteers spent all morning and afternoon calling everyone in town, going to their doorsteps, and checking public records. Ingrid had no home address. She had no known friends. She had no phone. Had no family.

She was completely disconnected from everything and everyone.

James threw the coffee mug he'd been holding against the wall.

They all stared in silence, fear and anxiety riddled their faces. What happened to Emma? What is happening to Emma? Staring at the cold coffee dripping down Mary Margaret's walls, at the small flecks of exposed plaster and broken ceramic, James throat closed up and his eyes began to sting.

What if it was already too late?

What if Emma was already gone?

It was Ruby who broke the silence with a question, "What do we do now?"

God, what do we do? James hated this. Hated that Emma went missing in the first place. Hated that he didn't know what to do now. Hated that he let his emotions get the better of him just now and broke a perfectly innocent cup that didn't even belong to him.

What would Emma do? James can't remember seeing Emma angry. He has seen her pissed, has seen her refuse to back down when she or someone she cares about had been treated unfairly, but he has never seen her lose her temper.

Emma always tried to take care of herself, of her mental health. That's what she'd tell him now. That he needed a breather. That he needed food. And a nap.

James closed his eyes, blocking off the shattered mug from view, and took a deep breath. For a moment he just focused on relaxing his throat and drying his eyes before he told them, "Go eat. Go sleep. Take an hour. Take more if you need it. Then come back when you're ready. We're no good wired like we are and Emma…" His voice caught again, but he forced out the rest anyway. "Emma wouldn't want us to torture ourselves over her." He covered the wetness on his face by crouching down to clean up his mess. One-by-one they all did what he ordered, leaving only Mary Margaret, David, and James who stayed hunched up with his broken mug longer than he should have to pick up a few pieces of broken ceramic. Mary Margaret and David didn't rush him, letting him take the time he needed as he calmed his shaking shoulders.

Frankly, they weren't much better than he was.

It took him fifteen minutes, but James finally stood up, cradling the shattered pieces in the crook of his left arm as he held his right hand over them to keep them from falling. "I'm sorry that I broke your mug."

Whatever Mary Margaret's response would have been was lost to the ringing of James' cell phone and him unceremoniously throwing the pieces to the floor in order to answer it.

"Hello? This is Sheriff Jones."

"I know where Emma Swan is." Three truths hit James at the same time in that moment. The first was that the voice was most certainly of one Graham Humbert. The second was that that means Graham never left town and he wanted to punch him for leaving them. The third was that James, without question or thought, knew that this lead would actually bring him closer to Emma.

"Where?"

"Mansion deep in the North Woods. Hidden from sight. Not many people know of it, and I don't know who the owner is, but I found a small patch of skid marks and human tracks on the road."

James swiped his keys from the table and marched out the door, Mary Margaret and David unquestionably in tow. "Thank you, bloody thank you. I'll be right there."

"I'll show where it is, but I won't be going any further. I hope you understand." He didn't, but that wasn't important now. "And Jones?"

"Yeah?"

"The tracks had been kicked around, like they had been waiting for her to come down the road."

 _Johansson only had interest in Emma, no one else._

"Were the tracks a male or females?" If what the case worker said was true then Emma never would have gone with Ingrid, but if she was working with someone…

"They belonged to a man, Hook." James wished he had a hook right now.

 _God damnit_.

God, no.

Nonononono.

 _No_.

He was too late.

There was Emma. Arms and legs bound next to a man in a lopsided top hat, madly waving a gun around.

And god, there was a car. A car that was picking up speed, racing towards Emma.

Oh god. Oh god. He's too slow.

He knows he's too slow.

Oh god.

And Emma. Emma knows that he is too.

She's looking at him like she is trying to carve his face into her soul so can carry it with her into the next life.

Oh god.

The man in the top hat is trying to shoot him.

James doesn't care.

Oh god.

He'll be dead before he stops trying to save her. And even then, he wasn't sure if Hades himself could stop him.

Oh god.

He watched as Emma threw her body into the man, knocking him over. James felt like he was stuck in slow motion while everything happening to Emma was too fast, too quick for him.

Oh god.

She scrambled to her feet, but the car was barrelling down on her. An ungodly, animal noise ripped through him as everything around Emma finally slowed down.

Oh god.

Her body went effortlessly over the hood, smacking the windshield before flying over the roof of the car and was roughly carried by the momentum across the ground.

Her body was still.

God, she was so still.

The paramedics wouldn't let him in the ambulance.

They said he was too frantic.

James told them they'd be frantic with a hook in their necks.

Mary Margaret and David had to pull him away, back to the cruiser where the lights were still flashing.

David drove while he and Mary Margaret sat in the backseat, clutching to each other in companionable feelings of fear and failure.

The staff tried to stop them at the hospital. "I'm sorry, but none of you are family. You can't go any further."

Mary Margaret all but yelled at the nurses, "That's ridiculous! We are her family!"

"I understand you feel that way, ma'am, but you cannot go with her to the emergency room and you cannot have access to her room later. It is hospital policy."

James slammed his badge on the counter in front of the nurse, "How is this for hospital policy?" He ground out.

Turns out, it worked pretty well. It didn't get them into the emergency room, but they were shown to Emma's room when she came out.

Dr. Whale told them that is was a miracle Emma was here with them right now. Being hit by a car like that, head on and without any sort of protection, she should be dead. And yet, here she lay, alive and with minimal injuries compared to what she should be. Broken ribs, a cracked femur with deep bruises, a sprained wrist, and a rough bump on her head that should have caused a concussion.

Now they sat, numbly staring at Emma's unconscious form, all three reliving the last twenty-four hours. Questions came in from newspapers, which the hospital kept at bay, and emergency personnel who wanted to know what do about the missing Jefferson,– whose name they only learned by searching his home– wrecked car, and the dead Ingrid.

While James and Mary Margaret had focused on Emma and her well being, David had thought about the car and the driver in it. Unfortunately for Emma, he wasn't very quick with a gun, but he eventually did the job. It took all eight rounds of the pistol James had given him, but finally one landed, and landed fatally.

The crime scene crew found the drug used on Emma and her personal effects, evidence of multiple struggles, the telescopes, and most curious of all– a room full of top hats.

James left all of this to the crew, remaining firm at Emma's side and deferring all trivial and most serious matters to the crew head. He couldn't leave her. Wouldn't leave her. He was awash with relief, frustration, love, and feelings of inadequacy. So he sat next her bed and held her hand, moving her hair with his fake one every now and then when it would fall back into her face.

He didn't have much time for the crew anyway after Henry came running in, tears streaming down his face. He ran straight for the bed, climbing over the railing to get to Emma. James grabbed him and pulled the boy to him as Henry cried "mom" repeatedly, asking for her to wake up. He curled into James as Regina snarled from the doorway. "That's enough Henry, I've brought you. Now it is time to go." But still, he clung to James. Henry had accused her of trying to kill Emma and told her that if she didn't do it then she'd take him to the hospital to see her.

He snapped at her, "You go! I'm staying here!"

So here he sat, with a packed bag, leaning heavily into James' side when Regina saw that she couldn't get him to move yet. She finally left, an idea forming in her mind, when Henry's anger and fear moved onto someone else.

"Why can't you all just listen? Why can't you all wake up already?"

"Henry?" James was exhausted, mentally, emotionally, and physically he could not handle this today, but he knew Henry couldn't deal with it either. So James listened.

"Don't 'Henry' me! This wouldn't have happened if you were awake Killian! Emma would have you! Her lieutenant and Captain Hook!" Aggressively point at Mary Margaret and David, "AND her parents! Snow White and Prince Charming! Instead, she's still alone!" Tears were rolling again, "She still doesn't have a family that can protect her! I'm only ten! I can't do it! You're her parents! And you're her true love! You're supposed to be the ones protecting her!"

Henry's loud cries and damnations pulled Emma from her slumber, quietly she tried to whispered his name.

He didn't hear her. "Does she not mean anything to you?!" He started throwing things at them, "Do you– not– love HER?" He yelled at James as he chucked tissue and glove boxes at him. He turned on Mary Margaret and David, starting down the same tirade when James forged the tornade of medical supplies Henry was hurling to wrap him in his arms.

"Shhh. She's going to be okay, lad. She's going to be okay." Henry resisted him for a moment, but at James' reassuring words he crumpled. Welting, hot tears rolled down cheeks that he pressed into the crook of James' neck. His fears and anxieties came to the surface. With each one that came forward, James offered a soothing comfort.

By this time, Emma had almost fully awoken, aware now that her son needed her. All the attention in the room was on Henry, and Emma was no different. She wanted to see her son, to hold him and reassure him that she was alright, that she wasn't leaving him so soon.

Her movement of struggling to sit up caught David's attention, who moved to help her as Mary Margaret was now kneeling next to James and Henry. 'Don't move so much, Emma. Your ribs are broken."

Mary Margaret turned at David's voice and shook James and Henry when she saw Emma trying to move.

Emma ignored both of them and called for her son in a stronger voice, "Henry." His big, child eyes were on her now, "Henry. I'm alright. I pro–"

Henry launched himself into his mother.

"Umpf," Emma grunted when he made contact with her shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him, ignoring the stabbing pain in her side and the rebellion coming from her shoulder.

Dr. Whale had said that she was lucky to be alive, that nothing short of magic could explain her limited injuries.

"I–was–so–scare–d–d–d," Henry bawled into the crook of her neck.

Emma didn't know what to do and the drugs weren't helping. Her arms were around Henry, but that was the only thing they were doing. Slowly and sloppily she tried to both pat and rub his back at the same time.

She failed at doing both.

But Henry cried himself out pretty quickly anyway, a ten year old can only cry so much in one day.

Henry tucked himself into her side, Emma wiped the tears off of his red cheeks. "Better?" His face was still scrunched up, but he shook his head 'yes' at her. He was scared, of course he was. "Hey, Henry?" Emma's voice was quiet and groggy, and Henry looked at her with wide, still afraid eyes. "I love you, kid." Her mouth felt like mashed potatoes.

This moment, this hospital bed, with these broken ribs, and injured shoulder, was the first moment in ten years that Emma Swan told someone that she loved them.

A grin broke over his face, his eyes shined like stars in the sky. "I love you too."

Emma's head fell back against her pillows. She kept her hand on Henry's cheek, moving it to sloppily run her fingers through his hair. "Do you have your storybook?"

She smiled at his, "Who do you think I am?" and asked him to read it to her, which he immediately complied to do.

Emma was lulled back to sleep by the rhythm of her son's voice.

Regina came for Henry that evening with a promise that he'd be back tomorrow. In front of his mother Henry defiantly gave the still asleep Emma a kiss on the cheek and walked out of the room, leaving his storybook on the bedside table.

It was Mary Margaret who broke the silence left in his wake. Reaching for the storybook she said, "I can't believe it was in front of me the entire time."

"Mary Margaret?"

"Why Emma made sense." Mary Margaret was responding to David, but her voice sounded far away as she opened the book to its end. "Why her being here was so normal, so right."

James sat quietly, clenching his fist as David questioned her. "What do mean 'made sense'?"

"I couldn't explain it before, but everything about Emma made sense. Her presence. Her story." Slowly Mary Margaret ran her fingers through the torn edges that remained of the final pages. "Wanting a complete stranger to stay. To move in with you." Looking at James, "To want her to work alongside of you. There's no reason why any of that…" Her voice dropped off as her fingers twirled the fringes of ruined paper.

"Should feel right." James finished for her. "There's no real reason why Emma should feel so right. From the very beginning, Emma just made everything… full somehow."

"Full…" Mary Margaret repeated, a small smile curving her mouth. "Like our hearts are more complete because she's here."

David shook his head at their insanity. "But Mary Margaret, you heard Henry. She's supposed to be your–our– daughter. That we're really Snow White and Prince Charm–" In the middle of his speech David reached for the storybook.

What happened is what stopped his disagreement.

With both he and Mary Margaret holding the storybook a light emitted from it, momentarily blinding one and all.

The missing pages came with the light and stayed when it left.

Staring up at them was an image of a baby girl wrapped in a fleece as white as snow blanket, with the name 'Emma' threaded it through it using a purple ribbon. The man who was holding her looked exactly like David Nolan.

In the time leading up to finding Emma they had all seen that exact same blanket draped over a chair next to her bed.

The whispered "Bloody hell" by James pretty well summed up how they all felt in that moment.

"Do we tell her?" David asked softly in the dim lamp light. Night had fallen hours ago, but none of them could force themselves to pry away from Emma.

"We shouldn't."

"James is right. She didn't tell us, tell me, for a reason and we should respect that. All of this has already been so hard on her. To finally have found her parents after all this time... but not being able to talk to them, to really see them, has to have killed her. If we tell her that we know who she is, but don't remember anything she'll still be stuck in the same place, except this time we might be adding more pain than comfort."

"What have you, Emma, and Henry been doing to break the curse?" James asked.

"Playing the long game. The curse separated everyone from their loved ones and twisted who they were. We thought that the best tactic would be to bring people together, trying to bring out who they really are and…" A blush rose to her cheeks, "we thought that reuniting Snow White and Prince Charming would break the curse." She marched on when David tried to stop her, "But I don't think that anymore. Emma escaped the curse for a reason. It's all right here in the book, she's the Savior. Emma thought she was here to reunite people and that someone else would break the curse. That's wrong. The only person how can break the curse is her."

"And how does she go about doing that?"

Mary Margaret stared James Jones in the eyes and declared with no small amount of uncertainty, "With true love and that's you."

"That's impossible. We're not– Emma can't–"

"Is that you talking, Jones? Or the curse?"

James sat in silence, wrestling with the uncomfortable feelings coming to a head inside of him. He's had dreams of Emma. Dreams of long blonde hair and emerald eyes dancing under the moonlight on the deck of a wooden ship.

" _Come with me,"_ he always dreamed of asking.

"Come with me," James said out loud now, testing the words in his mouth looking for a muscle memory.

"Come with me," he repeated. The words were right and the dream was wrong. The certainty settle over him, James knew that those were memories.

James gazed at Emma. It was real? He and Emma were true love? "So what," he asked "I just kiss her and this whole curse is over?"

"I don't know," Mary Margaret told him. "I don't know how any of this actually works. All I have are guesses and it's the same with Emma. I think she's the key to this, she has to be, but magic I'm betting is tricky and there's probably more to it than just a kiss."

James looked at Mary Margaret and David, at Emma's parents who couldn't even remember being married or having the daughter that lies before them. The daughter that had to grow up completely alone and unloved. _So much time has been wasted, so much time has been lost._ James cursed everything in existence and said _fuck it_ as he stood up. He leaned over Emma and numerous unnamed emotions flooded him as he bent down to plant a kiss on her forehead.

Nothing happened other than the constricting of his heart. _It's not the answer_ , he cursed himself as he sat down in desolation.

David and Mary Margaret both tried their turn at kissing Emma's forehead, and both failed. They thought that being her parents would guarantee them a true love's kiss and therefore their memories… both were incredibly disappointed.

All three sat in solemn silence. The idea of Emma being more to all of them than she was, of being someone so important, someone who they loved and loved them, had caused their hearts to swell.

But that swelling became constricting when they all failed.

"How could we all have failed?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Maybe you're wrong…"

"Shut up, Dave. You know she's right mate." James leaned his head back against the wall and gazed at Emma. He had almost lost her. If the curse is true, he did lose her. He lost her long ago. From the moment he saw Emma Swan he knew he loved her, but he had been so afraid of it. Afraid of her, but was that really him? Or had it been the curse that made him skittish of her every word? God, what did the curse do to them? His heart hurt, physically is ached and he couldn't remember a time when it didn't.

Except when he was with Emma. His mind was erratic and cautious around her, but his heart… his heart was always at ease.

It was her.

It had always been her.

This just wasn't their moment.

"It's Henry. If it's none of us then it's Henry."

"But how do we–"

"We wait it out." If what Henry said was true, that he was a two hundred year old pirate, then fate had to have played a part in reuniting him and Emma.

Fate would break this curse.

"Fate is on our side." James declared to Mary Margaret and David.

Later, when Mary Margaret and David fell asleep huddle uncomfortably together in their chairs, and all was quiet except for the machinery in the room, James could hear the ticking of the wall clock.

He preferred to think of it as a metaphor for Fate's clock running down.

 _Tick Tock_.


	14. Trauma is Not Nothing

A/n: I just wanted to thank everyone for the reviews! They really mean a lot to me and I greatly appreciate everyone for taking the time to leave me a line! This chapter is a little short, but the story is coming to a close. You can also find me on tumblr under the same username if you would like to drop by my ask box with questions or prompts!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Trauma is not Nothing

Emma was more functional the next day, still not able to sit up very well but she was awake and coherent. James made himself follow procedure and ask her some questions, ignoring every fiber in his body that wanted to ask her about the curse. He was her Killian and he couldn't even speak to her about it.

So he force Mary Margaret and David out of the room, pulled his chair as close as he could to her side, and prepared to take notes.

He stared at Emma, at the cuts on her face and bruises on her arms.

Terror struck him anew.

She could have died.

The lovely, wonderful, kind human being could easily not be here today.

Then they'd never–

Then she'd never–

And Henry–

 _She's alive god damnit_ , he reminded himself boring into her green eyes.

Emma must have read his emotions in his expressions because she reached a hand out and laid it on his arm. "Jones," she said softly, "You need to do your job."

His hand ached in protest when he moved to do just that. He hadn't realized how tightly he had been holding his pen. "You're right… I just–" He sat his pen aside and held her hand, "Emma I was so scared. I… I can't lose you."

She moved the hand not in his to cup his cheek. The trimmed scruff that he normally kept had grown out during the past few days. Gently, she stroked it with the tips of her fingers as he leaned into her touched, being reassured of her life through the comforting gesture. She smiled at him, it was sleepy with a hint of pain killer behind it. "I always knew you'd find me."

"Emma I–"

Her hand fell away. "Shhhhh," she told him, sorrow filling her face and tears pooling in her eyes as she looked away. "I don't want to have this conversation with you. Not right now."

He knew what she meant and understood now the sadness that always seemed to cling to her. _I don't want to have this conversation with James_. Mary Margaret was right. The past few months had been torture for her.

He cleared his throat and decided it was time to do his job. Quietly he prayed that Emma's misery would soon be over. "Could you tell me what happened?"

Emma gave a breathless laugh and even he could hear the double question. _What happened to us?_

She told him about Jefferson tricking her and drugging her. How she awoke tied up in his living room and stupidly made the decision to investigate instead of leave.

Mercifully he didn't comment. He knew why she did it.

He also didn't comment when her breath hitched and she fisted her bed sheets in her hands as she rushed over Ingrid to move on to the top hats. He quietly took notes throughout her tale. He thought that this part would have been the most difficult for her, but she only faltered when Ingrid was involved and knew the most difficult question had yet to come.

But come it must.

"Emma, this Ingrid lady is how we found you. We went into your past in case there was some loose end we didn't know about and found Ingrid. She was your last foster mother before you ran away. And she disappeared not too long after you did. Emma, I need you to tell me what happened."

She wouldn't look at him. "It's nothing," she gritted out.

"You know better than anyone that trauma is not nothing."

Emma glared daggers at her bed sheets. He was right and she knew it.

A nurse came in then to deliver lunch. "Good dessert today. Everybody is getting an apple turnover." Emma took the brief interruption to gather her thoughts and enjoy the aroma of baked apples and cinnamon coming from the apple turnover on the tray.

Maybe it was the drugs that made her be completely honest. Maybe it was the sadness. Maybe it was the fact that she felt like she was closer to Killian now than she had ever been in the last ten years. "Made me think she loved me. Ingrid took me to a fair. It was the first time I'd ever been to one. We played games, ate food, had the time of our life. I...uh… I saw a manilla envelope in her bag and thought she was just giving me a good send off, that I was being sent back to the orphanage. I was fifteen and thought that she was my best chance. She made herself seem like she was. I started to freak out, but it turns out that they were adoption papers. Or Ingrid said they were. And that she was going to sign them that night.

"Well… night came. We were walking home, laughing and eating ice cream. We stopped in the middle of the street. She told me how much she loved me, that we were going to be a family. And uh, uh, she told how she had lost her family in a terrible accident. She said then that that wouldn't happen again with me, because I had magic. I–" Emma let out a sad, little laugh, "I remember making a comment about Harry Potter. That she was crazy and couldn't live with her. She grabbed me then, and I guess…"

"You guess what, Emma?" James' voice was soft, his hand held Emma's, rubbing small, comforting circles with his thumb on it.

"I guess she paid the guy. Paid him to wait until she had me in the middle of the street before he tried to run me over. She thought I needed my own horrible accident to awake my magic, or whatever. I remember the car. I remember it hitting me. But I mostly remember the pavement afterwards. I remember hitting it and rolling on top of it. I remember getting it under my feet and making sure it stayed there as I ran away. I ran to the house and took my stuff, shoving past other kids that were there. I was gone before Ingrid could catch me.

"I was too scared to go to the hospital. Too scared to catch a bus in the city. I thought she would alert people about me, that she would look for me. But maybe she didn't. Maybe she ran just as fast I did."

She got quiet then and pulled her hand away from James', placing it in her own on her lap before she continued. "I was alone, it's the only reason I can think of that explains me being able to run away then. I wasn't much better off then than I am now, maybe the guy was going slower than she did. I don't know. I don't know why I'm still here. I shouldn't be. God, there are so many reasons why I shouldn't be."

James tried to offer some kind of comfort. "Emma, survivor's guilt–"

Emma didn't, couldn't listen to him. "I have spent the last thirteen years of my life running away from that woman and it turns out I only ended up running towards her. She's been waiting for me, here, in Storybrooke, this entire time." Emma's voice was thick, her eyes began to overflow. James moved to sit on the edge of the bed and Emma turned, tucking her face into his side as he draped an arm around her. A muffled, "That's terrifying," were the last words spoken in the room for a while as they held each other.

James didn't ask any more questions.

Mary Margaret and David were allowed to come back in an hour later with Henry in tow. Emma had eaten a bit of her lunch but had left the apple turnover untouched and the boy eyed it with interest.

"That came with your lunch?"

"Yeah, it came with everyone's. Do you want it?"

Henry debated the apple turnover for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, stepping forward, and taking a massive bite of the pastry.

"Henry! HENRY!" Emma cried when he fell to the floor.

Someone called for the nurses, but Emma didn't know who. All of her attention was on her son as she scrambled out of bed and to his side. "Henry, can you hear me? Come on, Henry! Wake up, please. Come on, Henry. Come on." She fought off Mary Margaret and David when they tried to pull her away, eventually responding to James' arms that wrapped around her middle to pick her up and away from Henry. That didn't stop her from fighting off everyone that tried to stop her from following her child down the hallway though.

Damn her injuries and damn them all for trying to stop her.

A another nurse tried to stop her, "Ma'am, let me take you back to your room. We'll take care of Henry." She made to grab Emma, but James got between them; Emma was injured and he didn't want a forceful medical staff making her injuries worse. And just like Emma, he was dead set to follow Henry to Hell if he had to.

"There's no pupil response. What happened? Did he fall? Hit his head?" Whale asked over the bustle of nurses busing themselves over Henry.

Mary Margaret shoved the apple turnover at Whale. "He ate this."

"His airway is clear. Did he vomit? Any convulsion?"

Mary Margaret, David, and James told him what happened, that Emma was given an apple turnover but Henry wanted to eat it. When he did he just collapsed.

"Apple turnover? We don't serve apple turnovers in the hospital."

Apple, Emma thought in numb silence, Snow White and the poisoned apple. The Evil Queen.

Regina.

"It's poison." Whale stared at Emma, not disregarding her theory. She kept talking, "The turnover was for me. Someone was trying to poison me, but they got Henry instead."

 _Regina_ , Emma was seething mad.

"There are no signs of neurotoxins though, but we'll run the tests for arsenic, or-"

"There's no point," Emma cut him off. "It isn't something you can test for." _Magic_. "Right now, Dr. Whale, just stabilize him because he's slipping away while I fix this."

And for some reason that Whale couldn't explain, he did exactly that. Rather than follow all reason and go with his medical training, his instincts told him that Emma was on the right track. They just needed to give Henry time.

"Where's my son?!" right on time Regina's voice came calling down the hallway.

Emma broke away from the group and marched towards her, slamming Regina against the wall. Her ribs screamed in protest.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret called after her.

"You did this." She seethed.

"What the Hell are you doing? Stop this! My son's-"

"Is dying because of you! He ate the apple turnover you sent me!"

Horror struck the Queen's face, "What? It was meant for you!"

"What the fuck do I need to do to fix this?"

"You can't! I can't!" God damn useless then, Emma shoved her against the wall again. They were gathering a crowd, and yet no one stepped forward to stop them.

"Because there's no fucking magic here. I know that!"

"I brought it here from over there, the magic is going to be unpredictable."

Emma stared at Regina hard then, testing her next words in her mind before speaking them outloud. It felt right. "And the best person to consult on it is Gold, right?"

"How do you-" Regina started to ask, but stopped when Emma shook her violently.

"It's Gold, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Emma gave Regina one last shove before walking back to her room to change. She called over her shoulder, "James, arrest Regina! David, stay with Henry! Mary Margaret, with me!"

There was too much at stake for them to try to question her.


	15. Freedom of Their Fire

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Freedom of Their Fire**

Crashing into Gold's Pawn Shop Emma wasn't wasting time beating around the curse, "Rumplestiltskin! We need your help."

"Ah. I was wondering if your comment the other day was a matter of mere coincidence. I take it that we do have a believer. But never mind that dearie, Indeed you do need my help. I heard about Henry's unfortunate illness. I told Regina that magic comes with a price." If it weren't for the fact that they needed his help, Emma could imagine reaching across the counter and bashing his head against his own counter.

She used her words instead, "Henry shouldn't be the one paying it."

"No, he shouldn't, but alas, we are where we are."

Again, the imagine of smacking his head into something crossed Emma's mind. "Can you help us?"

"Of course. True love, Miss Swan… Is the only magic powerful enough to transcend realms and break any curse. Luck enough for you, I've bottled some. From strands of your parents' hair in fact." Gesturing at Mary Margaret, "Miss Blanchard here and David Nolan." He paused then to stare at her, looking for a reaction to reveal that Mary Margaret Blanchard, her roommate and friend, was her mother. He was disappointed by her unfazed expression, "Ah. I see you are aware of the relation then. Very well, with their hair I made the most powerful potion in all the realms. So powerful that when I created the dark curse I placed a single drop on the parchment. Just a little safety valve."

It clicked then for Emma, why she was the chosen one. "That's why I'm the savior. That's why I can break the curse. So breaking the curse will save Henry?"

"Now you're getting it. The first step is to get the rest of the potion, which I've entrusted to an old friend."

Emma glared, "Where are they?"

"Where they are shouldn't worry you, but what they are should."

"Enough of this." Mary Margaret demanded, "What do we have to do?"

Gold gave her a malicious sneer, "You do nothing, dearie. Miss Swan here has to do it alone. She's the product of the magic. She is the one who must do it."

Emma cut off Mary Margaret before she could make any protestation. She braced herself against the counter, taking up Gold's view. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins still, muting the pain her body was in. "What do I have to do?"

"You, Miss Swan, are going to fight a dragon and the first thing you will need," he said turning to the wall behind him he grabbed a sheathed sword from the wall, delicately placing it on the counter between them. "Is this. Your father's sword."

Mary Margaret tried to say, "You can't be serious" but she never got to finish her sentence before Emma steadfastly said,

"Take me to the dragon," gripping her father's sword tightly in her hand.

Of all the battles Emma had fought in her life, from the Hell of her childhood to the the Hell of active duty, She never had a family memento to remind her of home or of happier days.

It was the will of Fate for one to come to her now, for the most important battle of her life.

Gold led them to the library. Emma had only been in it once in the dead of night, to see it in the daylight was an entirely new experience. For example, she hadn't noticed the elevator last time.

It was the elevator that Gold led them to right now. "The elevator is hand operated. One of you, Miss Blanchard, will stay up here to operate it. The other, Miss Swan, will go down to retrieve the potion."

"Why can't you stay here to operate it, and I go down with Emma?" Mary Margaret asked?

Gold smiled, "Because I have to get back to the shop."

Emma narrowed her eyes, she smelled bullshit but didn't have time to fight with him about it. "Let's just get on with it." She demanded, turning the lever to open and walking through the open doors. "Pull the lever Kronk." Emma muttered. In the back of her mind old ghosts laughed at her joke. She thought of her unit and her best friends who never got to go home. She'll carry them with her for the rest of her life, maybe in the afterlife they can sense the home she's carving for herself here.

At the bottom of the shaft Emma found herself in a softly illuminated cavern. Slowly she walked through it. She happened upon the glass coffin that her mother had been placed in under her own sleeping curse. Would they make one similar for Henry? Would she be in one similar if she failed down here? Would they even be able to recover the body?

Emma shook herself out of her thoughts and into the side of the very beast she had been looking for.

"Oh fuck." In all of her adventures in the Pride Lands, a dragon had not made the list. A wraith? Check. Chimeras? Check. Dragons? Check now, god damnit.

Emma ran through the cavern, looking for some kind of advantage she could use. It was too dark, she saw the pit too late. Tumbling down into further darkness the only thing she could see now was the dragon's illuminated eyes and the fire that lit its nostrils as the monster's head peered down at her.

Her breathing was ragged, her ribs killing her and her leg screaming. She looked around frantically, there was enough room in the pit for her to roll. An idea formed in her mind.

The dragon was bearing down on her now, neck outstretched, its mouth wide open. She unsheathed her sword, "Don't fail me now, dad" was the only thing Emma said as the dragon came ever closer. Emma stood her ground, staring into the maw of death until the last moment when she rolled to the side and in one swift movement her father's sword sliced through the exposed throat of the dragon. Slowly, it disintegrated into ash, leaving a softly glowing egg-shaped container behind.

Grabbing it, she looked around her. Emma could climb the walls, but she'd need two hands and to get rid of her boots, which would certainly not help her up the cavern wall. After discarding her footwear she opened the egg, relieved to find a smaller vial inside. Stuffing it into her pocket, Emma stared at the walls around and sighed. It was going to be a painful time.

She made it almost to the top of the elevator shaft and it came to a jerking stop, "Mary Margaret! What the Hell? Mary Margaret!" Emma yelled for her mother, but when she looked up she only saw Rumplestiltskin peering over the edge at her. "Gold? The fuck?" She really was going to bash his head against something.

"I'm afraid your mother was needed back at the hospital- something about Henry- and called me to come take over for her. This old elevator broke down again. You'll need to climb."

Panic crawled through her bones, "Is Henry alright?" Oh god, please be alive. Please don't let her be too late.

"There's no time for that!" Gold called down. "Toss me the egg so you can climb up and get to your boy!"

She took out the vial, staring at the glowing pink liquid inside. "No egg, only the vial. I couldn't carry the container!" He made the motion for her to toss it up anyway, but she hesitated. Can she trust him? Does she have time to not? Emma breathed deeply, Henry doesn't have the time for her to fight herself over Gold. She threw him the vial only for him to disappear a moment later. "Gold? Gold!" She yelled as the old shaft slowly began to climb again. Muttering curses under her breath at both Gold and herself, Emma impatiently jumped out of the elevator as soon as she was close enough to the top, only to find a tied and gagged Mary Margaret. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine. We have to find him. He can't be far, Emma." Mary Margaret tried to reassure her, but any comfort she offered was destroyed in the next instance.

Emma's phone rang, it was David.

"Emma, you need to come back. Now."

 _Tick tock. Time's up._

She was too late. Emma had failed her son.

Numbly she heard David tell her that James was on his way, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but her dying son.

Her little boy, her entire world. He had left her life ten years ago in a whirlwind of pain and misery, handcuffed to a hospital bed. He came back into it as a tornado ten years later that brought past heartache and hope, so much hope for a bright future. Hope that faded with his life.

Her biggest motivation ever since she had him and lost him ten years ago.

Mary Margaret was softly crying behind her, tucked underneath David's arm.

She stood next to him, stroking his hair as his heart rate slowed down to a stop.

He had told her once that he liked it when she did that when they hugged. That it made him feel safe and happy.

All she wanted was for him to be happy and safe.

Tears flooded her vision, "I'm sorry, Henry. I'm so sorry. I love you." She whispered as she bent down to place a kiss on his forehead. A wonderful sensation spread throughout her body, and blinding light expanded out from that kiss, spreading across the entire town.

Slowly, opened his eyes. "I love you, too. You saved me." His beautiful, sweet voice answered her declaration.

"Henry." Emma cried, embracing him.

He was safe. He was alive. Her son.

"Emma?" And she was finally someone's daughter. It was the voice of Mary Margaret- Snow White- crying softly for her daughter. "Emma…"

Over Henry's head Emma saw her parents' eyes swell with tears and emotion. Their face was a mixture of heartbreak and happiness.

Emma Swan, the lost girl, was about to meet her parents.

And she was terrified.

 _It's been twenty-eight years. What if they don't want me?_

In silent disbelief Snow White and David approached their daughter. Emma stood motionless, holding Henry to her as a shield that could deflect the rejection she was so afraid of receiving. Emma flinched back and away when her mother stretched out her hands to touch her. It was Snow's quivering whisper calling Emma, "Baby…" that made Emma relax into her mother and allow her to tearfully cup her face.

Snow proudly gazed at her daughter before pulling her into hug, where Emma melted into her embrace. Her mother's voice was thick, but incredibly proud when she spoke into Emma's shoulder, "You found us."

Emma felt another warm body join the hug, and heard her father softly whisper her name as his hand cradled the back of her head. The feeling of comfort that gesture brought her, the security that came with it, made a choking sob escape her lips.

He answered her sob with his own.

It was Henry who pulled them out of their emotional downturn with an enthusiastic, "Grandpa?"

David's chest rumbled as he let out a laugh choked by tears, "Yeah kid, I suppose so."

"She did it. She saved you."

Mary Margaret pulled back, along with David, to observe their daughter at arm's length. Her father's hand was now on her face, moving hair out of the way as her mother answered, "She saved all of us."

Emma was saved making a response by the sound of a metal pan hitting the tile floor. Her attention snapped to where the clanging noise came from to find a nurse on the other side of the glass, her hands frozen where the tray used to rest. She was staring in horror out of the window.

"Are you okay?" Emma called, but all the nurse did in response was point outside.

They all turned to see a large cloud of thick, purple smoke overtaking the town.

"Everyone down! Now! Move away from the windows! Get to the floor! Find a doorway if you can! Whale get over here and help remove these wires from Henry!" David called over the franticness that started to spread over the hospital.

With Henry's wires removed, Emma didn't give him a chance to move on his own. Without thought nor hesitation her instincts and training kicked in and Emma lifted her son from his bed. She carried him to the doorway and shielded his body with hers.

Of all the unexpected events that had occurred that day, the most surprising to Emma was Snow and David covering her and Henry with their own bodies.

Parents protect their children.

Just… Emma never had one to protect her.

When the cloud hit the ground shook, lights flickered, and glass shattered, but it passed quickly.

They stood to survey the room, but with the passing of the adrenaline came the pain from Emma's injuries.

She really wanted to sit the fuck down.

But what she wanted most was to finally see Killian Jones again after all this time.

Her parents were discussing the fog with Whale with Henry standing by– the king and queen needing to attend to their people after all this time– the hospital staff were seeing to their patients, but somehow Emma felt as though all eyes were still on her.

The savior. The princess.

The pirate.

Emma left the room, shoving herself off of the doorway she had been leaning on, praying that the force gives her enough momentum to make it to her destination.

Her family's cries from behind her only fed her determination.

The bows and mumbled signs of respect from the civilians she passed were like the doorway she had pushed herself off of– it was the wind at her back.

The brilliant sunlight made her stumble, but not fault in her purpose. Her family was behind her, her father's hands stabilizing her, her mother's presence calming her, and her son's voice encouraging her.

"Mom, he'll be so excited to see you! We have to find him!"

"I don't think she has to go to him, Henry." Snow said, staring down the street. "Do you hear that?."

"Sirens?"

A cry of joy erupted from Emma's lips as she kept moving into the street– where crowds of people were reuniting, forcefully and joyously embracing.

Emma could see that when the patrol car turned the corner it would be the end of the road for it. The people's happiness was more important.

Too bad it was getting in the way of Emma's. She started to force her way through the crowd, her mother got pulled aside by dwarves, but David and Henry were calling over the crowd, trying to make them move out of the way.

The sirens were cut off, a car door slammed, and then Emma heard it over the bustling of the street.

She heard him.

" _Emma!_ " His voice called over the crowd, frantically yelling her name again and again, "Emma! Emma!"

She answered every cry with her own, " _Killian!_ "

Emma was pushing and shoving, the throng of people not giving way. She had lost David and Henry in the confusion. A person stumbled into her, causing Emma to gasp in pain.

Her ribs were screaming. Her breath was coming out in pants.

But she had to find him.

Emma kept forcing her way through the mass of people until finally, finally, she stood face to face with the man she said goodbye to so long ago.

"Emma…" He was crying and from the blurriness of her vision Emma realized that she was too.

"Killian," was the sob that came from her lips.

They crashed into each other's arms, Emma's knees hit the pavement as Killian's legs bent up around her. Her arms wrapped around his neck, his around her shoulders. Their faces pressed into the other's neck.

Mangled words and sentences came out, but not the ones they needed to say most.

"I never thought–"

"Oh my god–"

"But you were–"

"I've missed–"

In her uncontainable joy, Emma shut them both up by excitedly planting several kisses onto Killian's cheek. His response was to hold her tighter and to giddily giggle out, "I've been blessed by the gods."

Tears still streamed down their cheeks, but Killian was looking at her as though he had been a prisoner and she was his freedom, shining brightly in the sun.

The words Emma refused to say ten years ago flooded her mind, and this time she didn't close the dam gates.

"I love you." Those words had haunted her for a decade, and now that they're free, even if they crash and burn, Emma would bask in the freedom of their fire.

Killian didn't have a chance to respond.

"Mom!" Henry's voice came crashing between them just as his body did. "You found him!" Emma had never seen her son so happy, he looked as though the world he had been carrying on his shoulders was finally removed. Like he could now be the ten year old he really was. "I told you, you're Captain Hook! And mom's lieutenant!" Henry grinned at him, "It's nice to finally meet you Killian! I'm Henry."

At some point during their reunion it seemed that Emma's family had surrounded them, curiously watching the exchange unfold. Killian's left arm remained on Emma's waist, but he held up his right hand to shake Henry's. He had a grin that matched her son's. "Hello lad, I don't believe the breaking of the curse has taken any memories. I do remember you, Henry."

"Yeah, but I haven't gotten to really meet you."

"Fairpoint, my boy. I look forward to changing that."

Henry grinned at him, but rather than take Killian's hand he threw himself into their hug, overjoyed by the breaking of the curse and his mother and Killian finding each other.

They stayed like that for a long moment, just holding each other. Each reveling in their shared joy. In a much too familiar picture, Killian rested his forehead against Emma's. Their noses lightly grazing, but this time he whispered in reverence, "I love you, too."

A tap on Emma's shoulder revealed that her parents had moved to join in on the reunion, but when Emma twisted her torse to wrap her arms around her mother she couldn't stop the cry of pain. "Ahh! Fuck. Right." She grunted, holding a hand to her side. "My ribs are still broken."

"Enough sitting on the pavement, we have to get you inside. You did it Emma, you saved everyone, but now it's time for you to take a break." Snow told, more like ordered, her daughter.

Emma could only agree, "Alright. Help me up. I can walk back to the hospital."

"Don't be ridiculous, love. We'll get a wheelchair. There's no need to exert yourself more than you have." Killian insisted, his eyes betraying his anxiety. In that moment she could see all the fear and anxiety that the last few days have put him through.

He almost lost her.

Again.

David kneeled next to his daughter, "Emma, just because you can doesn't mean you should. You have spent that last four months trying to take care of all us, let us take care of you." Emma stared at her father, at his pleading eyes, at her mother's concerned face, at the grin that had disappeared from Henry's face. When she looked at Killian he cupped her face, "Emma…"

Was that plea? Was it prayer? Or was it everything? Emma didn't know, but she wanted to stay with him to find out.

She let her father get her a wheelchair.

Emma had barely settled back into her hospital room when Mother Superior broke the news.

"Magic? In Storybrooke? How?"

The Blue Fairy couldn't answer Snow's question, so Emma did it for her.

"Gold did it. He bottled true love to bring back magic once the curse was broken."

"That's impossible, even the Dark One couldn't do that." The fairy insisted.

Emma winked and gave the fairy finger guns, "Could and did. Can we move on to more pressing matters? Like the fact that this means Regina has magic and has poofed herself out of her cell?" She really wasn't concerned about Rumplestiltskin, he didn't endanger an entire town.

"You're right. We can't have her teaming up with the Dark One. We have to get to her first." Emma narrowed her eyes at the Blue Fairy, clearly she wasn't a great source on character analysis.

"I don't care about the imp." Regina's voice cut in. She was standing in the doorway, confident that nothing could touch her. She was probably right. David, stupidly, drew his gun, which only resulted in Regina pinning it and the hand it was attached to to the wall. "Henry, it is time to go home now." Holding out her hand to him she said, "Come along now."

Henry pulled his hand out of Emma's and stepped around Killian who stood between them and Regina, "Only if you promise not to hurt them."

Regina leaned over and in a loud, conspiratorial whisper said, "Only if you promise to come with me."

Emma snapped, "Seriously, Regina? This is how you want to do this? You want to abuse Henry into going with you?"

"He's my son. I can do what I–"

"Really Regina?" Snow interrupted. "How much more like your mother are you willing to become?"

Violently the Evil Queen thrust her hand forward, and Emma couldn't help but picture her in a Sith robe from Star Wars as she began to magically choke Snow White. "I should have killed you years ago."

"Stop it!" Henry cried, "I'm going with you! I'm going with you! You promised!"

With her hand still suffocating Snow White, the Evil Queen looked into the terrified eyes of her ten year old son and began to see the monster she had become.

Emma was right, they couldn't physically touch her, but emotionally she was wide open.

A child should never have to fear their mother.

Something broke then in the Evil Queen. She had won her vengeance, but at the highest cost, and now she realized that to keep it she'd have to been paying the price.

Finally however there was something she wasn't willing to pay for. Regina dropped her hand, and stepped away. "You're right, I did. But now I have to break it." She crouched to meet Henry's eyes, "I am not the mother you deserve, but I'd like to be someday. Until then Henry, know that I do love you." Regina lifted the hand she was just using to kill Snow White to run it through his hair, but midair it stopped when she saw him flinch away from her touch. She knew she deserved that. "You're going to stay with Emma," was her only goodbye.

While David and Snow checked on the other, Henry tucked himself into Emma's good side.

It had been a long day for both of them, and a nap with their families watching over them would serve them well.


	16. Goddamn Stupid

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Goddamn Stupid**

A/N: This is it! This is the last chapter for See You Again! Thank you so much to everyone for reading this story and for the overwhelming amount of love!

You can find the videos for the story here ( watch?v=zqihomLmpLw) and here ( watch?v=Rad_OfosJEk)

Downeystarkjr on tumblr has been a great artist to work with, follow her and keep a look out for more of her amazing work! My beta forget-me-not-s is also amazing and has been an absolute joy and bleesing to work with!

Emma and Henry woke several hours after the curse broke to David sitting quietly in a chair in their hospital room. Apparently during their sleep part of the town decided to riot and storm Regina's home, causing a minor emergency for her parents. Together the king and queen talked down their people and placed Regina on home arrest, leaving Mary Margaret in charge of the town, which, David explained, is why her mother is not there with them.

It doesn't, however, explain why Killian is not with them. When her dad returned he found Killian solemn, and he quickly and quietly dismissed himself from her hospital room.

She wasn't awake to see him off.

Emma suspected that the remembrance of who he really was brought with it understandable pain, and regret.

The young man, the boy, she had known ten years ago was gentle and sweet. He was kind and loving.

Becoming a pirate was a rejection of all those traits.

And that rejection, and the resultant acts from it, had to weigh heavily on his mind.

Emma was released from the hospital after the Blue Fairy came in to see to her. "Now, I cannot heal you completely. That isn't how light magic works, but I can fix your broken bones and only leave you some deep bruises." Emma eyed the fairy suspiciously, but didn't say a word as she worked. Frankly, she thought the fairy was full of shit, but if it meant she could move and not have her body scream at her she'd take it. So she left the hospital, but still with an absent Killian, and went back to the loft to relax.

For a little bit.

Until Killian ignored her for too long.

Fortunately, she knew what calmed him. It was the same sight that helped bring her peace when she can't sleep.

The horizon.

"Hey," Emma said softly as she approached Killian. He was sitting on the ground, his legs dangling over the water that splashed beneath the docks. "It's not good to wallow alone, you know." She had a box perched on her hip and was swaying slightly in the sea breeze that hit the docks. "Mother Superior used magic to make me a more functional human being again. Now I've just got some nasty bruises." His noncommittal response did not make her feel any better. "Alright, well, I thought I'd find you here. Care if I sit down?"

Killian had his eyes trained on the lapping waves, he quietly nodded his assent. Blowing out a puff of air Emma told him, "I can't offer you comfort, Killian. I know that." Still, Killian did not turn towards her and Emma thought she could make out that his eyes were closed, as if he were bracing himself for impact. "I can only offer you a reminder. You have to decide when you want comfort." Killian gave a small, mirthless laugh. "I wanted to give you this." It was when she shifted the box around in her lap that Emma caught a glint in the moonlight on Killian's left arm.

It was his hook.

Emma understood then why he had disappeared after the riot and why he had refused her calls. Two hundred years of trauma came back, and she was a reminder of the young, brilliant lieutenant he used to be.

And a reminder of everything he turned away from.

He had to be terrified that she could never overlook everything that had happened and everything that he'd done. That possibly the entire town would ignore all the good he did and only focus on the pirate.

Emma decided to take a chance. She reached her hand across his torso and grabbed his hook. Killian's head snapped up, his eyes locked on her and Emma could see the absolute fear in his eyes. "Killian…" He was looking at her like she was the world and that her every word was a proverb. "When you're ready for comfort, I will be here to offer it." Killian's lips were twitching, as if he wanted to respond but couldn't get the words out.

There was so much left unsaid between them, but now wasn't the time to push it.

She let go of his hook in exchange for giving him the box she had brought with her. "I thought you'd like to have these things now that you know who you are." Emma had spent the last few months slowly accumulating stuff that could make the curse breaking easier for him. At the time that she started, Emma only had a picture.

Opening the box, the first item Killian pulled out was the first photograph of them. He laughed breathlessly when he saw it, but his voice was thick with emotion. "You know, I kept this portrait for two hundred years in my desk drawer, but mine got so old that all the color faded." He was smiling now, grinning even, and Emma could only answer him with her own.

Digging back into the box, Killian pulled out a picture frame with artwork in it. The artwork was of him and his brother, in their uniforms looking proud and happy to be by each other's side. It was time for Emma to confess, "I broke into the library looking for clues about the curse the night before the election. I found a second storybook, one that takes place before Henry's. The book is in the box too, but I thought you'd like to have one of the pictures framed." He pushed the box aside, focusing wholly on his brother's face as tears welled in his eyes. God, when was the last time he saw his brother's face?

"Mom! Mom! Mom!" Henry was running up to her with her parents chasing after him, trying to stop him. Emma moved quickly in an attempt to keep him away from Killian, whose emotional state did not need a ten year old excitedly tugging on him.

"Henry! We told you to wait!" Her parents had caught him, but he refused to stay still.

"I know, but the party!" Whirling around to face Emma he told her, "There's a party at Granny's," grabbing a hold of his mother's hand he started to drag her. "Let's goooo, mom! Killian! Come on!"

Gently pulling out of his grasp, Emma leaned down and told him, "Henry, I know you're excited. I'm excited too. But this isn't an easy time, or even a happy time, for everyone here."

Her son peaked around her shoulder to Killian's hunched form and said quietly, "Oh. What can we do?"

"We can give him some space while Killian figures some stuff out, okay?" Henry nodded at her, but his eyes didn't leave Killian. "Why isn't he happy? You guys finally found each other. You love each other!"

"Henry, it isn't that simple."

"Why?" He cried.

"Because with the breaking of the curse came a lot pain too, Henry. Not all the memories are good memories."

"I don't understand. Everyone should be happy."

Slowly, Emma kneeled in front of her son. "Henry, are all of your memories happy ones?" She asked, trying to make him understand. He shook his head 'no.' "Neither is Killian's. Imagine all of that unhappiness hitting you at once. That's how he feels right now."

"Then we need to make him happy."

"It's not that simple kid."

"Then what do we do?"

Her hands rubbing the tops of his shoulders Emma pulled her sweet boy into a tight hug, "We support him."

Standing up, she walked back to Killian who was wiping at his face. Emma suspected that he had been crying. She crouched next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Killian, I'll be back." And after a moment of hesitation she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, Emma felt his body freeze and then relax under the unexpected affection. "Don't forget to look at the rest of the box," she whispered before walking away.

When she reached Henry she held out her hand for him to take it before leaving for Granny's. They only made it a few steps before Henry turned back and looked at Killian. "We can't leave him," he whispered. Jerking his hand out of Emma's, he ran back towards Killian, throwing his arms around his neck in a tight hug before sitting down next to him, on the side of his hook.

Emma turned to her parents, who watched their exchange. They were at a stand-off. Emma wanted to turn back, to sit down next to Killian as he went through his box, to hopefully hear his real, beautiful laugh. To see his eyes shine with happiness in the moonlight. Her parents wanted her to come with them, to horde their lost daughter's attention.

But what a parent wants isn't more important than what their child needs.

Snow stepped forward, reaching for her daughter's hand. Once she held it firmly in her own she said, "You know what isn't in the storybook? The story of how we got the strength to let you go." Behind her David stood, his hand rubbing the small of her back in comforting circles. Emma listened attentively as her mother continued with tears in her eyes. "David and I had no idea how we could let you go, let alone into a bizarre and unknown world by yourself. We wasted months looking for alternatives that did not exist. At first we tried to hide my pregnancy, to protect it from the Evil Queen. But it got out, as secrets always do, and somehow, by fate or destiny, it reached a pirate. A pirate commonly known as the moniker, Captain Hook. He snuck into our castle and demanded an audience with us. With your father's sword pressed to his neck, he didn't care about his own life. He spoke instead of a young woman he had met, in a world vastly different from our own, who was an orphan who never knew her parents. We were so close to that being your reality that we had to know more, and David dropped his sword. But Hook wouldn't say more until we told him our baby's name.

"When we did, when we told him your name was Emma, he dropped to his knees. He covered his face with his hand, absolute relief and heartbreak on his face. He told us that he had met our daughter, that you called yourself Emma Swan. He told us how strong you were. How brave and kind and loving. He also told us how heartbroken you were that you never knew your parents. He told us everything, but it was in this-– this everything that we found the strength to let you go. To save our kingdom, because we knew that you would become an amazing woman. And you did, Emma. You are incredible.

"But the story doesn't end there. I asked him if he would run from the curse, because he could. His ship could outrun anything. He didn't answer the question then. He left instead, but he's here, Emma. He knew the curse was coming. He could have escaped it, but he's here. He must have let himself be caught so he could see you again." Her mother squeezed her hand and ended their conversation with, "We'll make your excuses, honey. The party isn't where you belong."

With a thick throat and tear glazed eyes Emma whispered a 'thank you' before walking back to Killian and taking her seat next to him.

Henry was asking him about his brother's picture that he was still holding.

"Hey," Emma said, placing her hand on his shoulder. He gave her a small, grateful smile in response. "There's something else in the box that I think you should see right now."

Handing her the framed picture, Killian dug back into his box and pulled out a thickly wrapped bundle. "Be careful," Emma warned. "I tried to wrap it really well, but I doubt it's actually a good job."

"It's fine, love."

Emma waved his words away and impatiently told him, "Open it."

Slowly and carefully Killian unwrapped the bundle. When he first exposed the tip of the mast he gasped, then in stunned silence he exposed the sails, and finally the body of his ship.

Emma bumped his shoulder with her's, "I got it from Gold a few months ago. I've been doing some research and I think it's just a shrinking spell. You might be able to undo it by putting it in the water."

Frantically and wordlessly Killian scrambled from his seat and ran down to an empty docking station. Henry excitedly on his heels. Emma moved much slower, carefully taking the now open box in her hands to follow them. Part of her wished that it was still daylight so that she could see Killian's face more clearly. To see the joy that was radiating off of him.

But she knew this had been too long in coming.

With bated breath, she watched as Killian gingerly placed his miniature ship into the calm lapping water.

Henry let out a loud, joyous noise, the kind only made by children, when the Jolly Roger sprung up in its full magnificence.

On the deck Henry ran around, calling out to his mother to look at this, that, and the other without ever actually stopping to show to her. Killian stood at the helm, caressing the wheel and tracing the cardinal directions that were carved into the wood. Emma silently followed him around his ship, after the initial shock wore off he started to quietly whisper to her the various elements of his ship.

They sounded like words of love.

Henry didn't have the patience to listen to Killian's explanations and instead explored the ship on his own.

Killian didn't try to stop him. "Let him explore, love, a boy only gets to experience being on a ship for the first time once." He started to explain the sails to her but stopped himself, reaching up to scratch behind his ear. "I guess I don't really need to show off my ship, I know you've been on several."

"Ah," Emma teased, "But I haven't been on your's."

In the moonlight, she could see his grin as he swaggered closer to her. "Would you like to see more then, Swan?"

"I would love to if it means I can put down this box somewhere."

"I'll take care of that and can show you my cabin at the same time." Taking the box from her hands, Killian led her down a hatch into his cabin.

"You realize that it is almost impossible to see anything on your ship because you don't have electricity, right? As in, I can't see your cabin at all."

Killian laughed at her as he rummaged in the dark, with soft illumination following. "It's called a candle, Swan. We weren't privileged in the Enchanted Forest with your electricity."

"Isn't that a bummer." Emma teased him back as she wandered around his room. The few times she found herself in his apartment Emma confined herself to his living room. And now that she stands in his bedroom, the room he has spent 200 years in, Emma couldn't get enough of it and cursed the nighttime.

She was also incredibly nervous.

Ten years of regret, anxiety, and grief were all coupled together in this very room, with this very man.

In the middle of her survey of his room Killian's voice broke the silence. "I can't believe this is real."

For the millionth time that day Emma's eyes welled with tears. "When– when you went through that portal Killian, you went two hundred years into the past. You were dead in my time the moment you stepped through."

"And you never existed in mine," was his quiet reply.

"I spent a decade Killian trying to forget that you existed. And I couldn't do it. Every day you haunted me."

A tear spilled over and ran down his cheek. "I tried to forget you too, at first. You know about Milah, you know that story. It's in Henry's book. But you were always there, Emma. Always haunting me as well. A ghost that never stopped chasing me, or maybe I couldn't stop chasing you. And then fifty years passed, then a hundred, and I hadn't really aged because of the Neverland. I lived to… I lived to avenge Milah's death, taking out my anger at losing you and Liam on that imp. Then– I… I realized that I could outlive the time that separated us. And I lived only to see you again."

"Killian…" his name came out in a whispered cry as they came together, there in the middle of his candlelit cabin. Her arms wrapped around his torso, face pressing into his chest as his arms found their way around her shoulders. She muffled into his chest, "I love you. I loved you then, and I knew I did." Emma pulled back, enough for tear-filled eyes to meet tear-filled eyes to tell him, "And I knew you loved me, but I didn't want to make you chose. You had a family, you had someone waiting for you. Someone you were fighting to get back to. You had something I could never have, and I didn't want to be in the way of that."

His came up to cup her face, wiping away her falling tears. "Emma, you could never be in the way of anything. From the moment I met you, you were a part of me, a part of my family. My brother… Liam had hopes that one day we would make it back to you."

She kissed him then, fully and wholeheartedly she put every emotion, every doubt, every instance of pain and love and joy and regret and hope into that kiss.

He responded in kind.

That is, until Henry came bounding down the stairs. "Mom! They're setting off fireworks!" Emma whirled around, her back pressing against Killian's chest, his hand and hook resting on her hips for a moment before Henry grabbed her hand to drag her up to the deck. She grabbed Killian's in turn and together all three made a small train up to the deck of the ship to watch the celebratory fireworks.

None of them let go until it was over and Henry was drooping on his feet, clearly exhausted. It took some cajoling but eventually Emma and Killian convinced him that it was time to go home, but only agreed when Killian offered to give him a piggyback ride home.

It was very late when Killian arrived back at the Jolly Roger. He had just collapsed onto his bed when the box sitting at his desk caught his attention. Walking over, he pulled out the contents of the box. First came the picture of he and Emma in full color, bright and in love. Second was the drawing of he and Liam, but it was only when he was looking straight down into the box that he realized that there was a third item. One he didn't see earlier.

The book was bound in leather that was worn with time, the exposed edges of the paper were yellowed and stained. Opening the front cover he found the owner.

 _Emma Swan, Deployment 1: 2001– 2002_

[Deployment, 2002]

He's on the floor. Killian is on the fucking floor and he's not moving. He's not moving and her wrists won't stop fucking bleeding. Emma could hardly keep a hold of the sword that she stole from a guard earlier because of the blood. She tried not to think about that, if she had to bring fists to a sword fight then so be it.

But how does she even get to him? Killian was lying on a platform behind some kind of barrier.

"Scar is harnessing magic from the gods," Emma whirled around, ready to strike on instinct but Rafiki was quicker, covering her mouth with his hand as the other one grasped her hand that held the sword. "It's me."

"What do we do?"

"We run, Emma. What is happening now in my country is bigger than you, it is bigger than me. There is another savior who has to take on this fight."

Emma shook her head, "I meant about Killian. We have to save him. I can't leave him."

"There is nothing we can do for him now. Scar is using the magic of the gods, which is all based on tests. The only way to get to Killian is to be his true love, and his brother isn't here."

Emma stared at Killian's prone body, images of him from the past few months flickered across her vision. His laugh, his smile, the warmth and solidity of his body when he comforted her or the day they danced until sunrise. "Rafiki," she whispered, "what is true love?"

"It's selfless and compassionate. It is putting someone else's happiness before your own. It is the small things in life, Emma, like purposefully remembering a story, a joke, a tiny bit of information because you know they'd find joy in it. It is finding comfort in their presence. It meaning that your dreams are for theirs to come true. But most importantly it is reciprocated."

" _It is reciprocated."_

"Okay," was her only reply. Emma handed the sword that was slipping through her grasp to Rafiki, she wouldn't need it her. "I'm not leaving without him. He's going to go home. Cover me."

And Emma Swan came out of her hiding place to step into the middle of the room. She stood before the barrier, guards were starting to yell and call orders, but she heard none of them as she gingerly put her hand up to the barrier.

She felt it resist her touch, the sensation reminded her of sticking her fingers into jello as a kid. She pushed and it gave way.

Emma Swan was inside the barrier.

She and Killian were true love.

Her heart broke as she heaved his still but breathing form over her shoulder in a fireman's carry.

He would go home to his brother, to his family, somewhere she could never follow.

[Storybrooke]

The sun was creaking over the horizon when Killian read the bloodstained pages where Emma wrote down her ordeal, her discovery of true love. According to the date she had written in the day after it happened, over his still unconscious form. He ran his finger over the pages, feeling the change in texture of the paper when her blood saturated it, mixing with the ink of her pen. Just as her blood was absorbed by the paper, his mind was absorbed by the story.

For over a century Killian had thought of Emma as his true love, but to know that it was confirmed, that everything he felt about Emma Swan was blessed by the gods and returned in kind, was overwhelming.

A mixture of frustration and relief washed over him. Frustration because Emma knew and kept it from him, frustration because she wanted him to be happy even if it hurt her, frustration because the gods gave them this gift but put so many obstacles in their way that they couldn't see another way but separation, frustration because he knows he would have done the same thing for her.

And relief, sweet relief, because it was over, relief because they could heal together.

While in his thoughts Killian had let off of the journal pages he held in his lap, allowing the very full page he had been looking at to flip over. Right when he was about to stand up and leave– he had to see Emma, he had to go now and see her and hold her– Killian caught sight of the next page. It was undated and written in different ink, but most striking was that the page consisted largely of blank space. On every other page in the journal Emma had used every bit of space, carefully conserving as much as possible, but not this one. All it had was a small note that read, "Even now I still bleed."

It was 6AM and someone was knocking on their door. Emma was in sweatpants and an old Army t-shirt without her leg brace and did not want to move from the cup of coffee that was sitting in front of her. Blessedly, David got up instead to answer the door leaving her and Mary Margaret to hum into their mugs.

"E–mmm… can I…" was the awkward early morning exchange started by the person at the door, and by the accent she knew who it was before David stepped aside to let him in without a word. From the looks of Killian Emma would guess that he hadn't slept and when she spotted the journal in his hand she knew why. She also understood why his face was flushed and his breathing was heavy– he ran here.

"Will you help me, Mary– mom?" But before her mother could even get off her seat Killian strode across the room, took her into his arms, and kissed her deeply.

There was nothing left unsaid in that kiss.

"I was so goddamn stupid of me to– ouch!" Emma's sentence was interrupted by a nerf gun bullet hitting her in the leg. She looked up to find Archie still aiming the nerf gun in her direction. "Archie, what the Hell?"

"Try again."

"What?"

"Try that sentence again."

"Okay… as I was saying it was stupid of me–" This time Emma saw the shot coming and was able to curl into herself a bit for protection.

"It's a new tool to help you recognize negative thoughts. Everytime you say something negative, especially about yourself, I'm going to shoot you with this nerf gun," Archie said, waving the gun in the air. "So try that sentence again."

"Seriously? You're gonna shoot me, here, in therapy?"

Archie's response was to raise an eyebrow at her and take aim. "That's really up to you, isn't it?"

"Okay. Okay. I, uh, made a mistake, but I guess it wasn't really stupid. I'm just frustrated."

"That's right. Mistakes are human. It is natural and a part of life and being human to make them, Emma."

Their hour passed in this way, Emma getting shot occasionally with a foam dart, cursing, and correcting her language. By the end of the hour, she was more positive about herself.

When Emma walked into the waiting room Killian stood up to enter Archie's office. They both decided that it was time to get some expert help (Emma starting her second round of therapy since leaving the military) after the curse broke and make their appointments together on Monday morning at eight and nine o'clock while David went on patrol. Her father usually picked her up after Emma's appointment and took her for breakfast, with Killian joining in every once in a while.

"You look like you had a pleasant time, love."

Emma struggled to suppress a smile as Killian bent down to give her a quick kiss. Their relationship was new, and gentle, but their foundation was strong. They both new the other had pasts that dragged on them and fully supported each other in their therapy.

It was good.

It was healthy.

"Yeah, I feel pretty good right now."

She felt even better when Killian got out of his appointment an hour later and she received a text from him that read, " _BLOODY HELL SWAN YOU COULD HAVE WARNED ME ABOUT THE NERF GUN."_

Yeah, she felt pretty good about her life right now.


End file.
